THE JOURNALS AND
PAPERS OF
OERARD MANLEY
HOPKINS
CiERARD MANLEY HOPKINS
Balliol,
THE JOURNALS AND
PAPERS OF
GERARD MANLEY
HOPKINS
Edited by
HUMPHRY HOUSE
SENIOR LECTURER IN ENGLISH LITERATURE
AND PFLLOW OF WADIIAM COLLEGE, OXFORD
Completed by
GRAHAM STOREY
TLLOW OF TRINITY HALL» CAMBRIDGE
OXFORD UNIVERSITY PRESS
1959
Oxford University Press
BOMBAY CALCUTTA MADRAS
CONTENTS
Preface ix
Abbreviations xxxiii
EARLY NOTE-BOOKS i
Early Diaries (1862-6) 3
Undergraduate Essays, etc.:
i. On the Signs of Health and Decay in the Arts 74
ii. The Origin of Our Moral Ideas 80
iii. Poetic Diction 84
iv. On the Origin of Beauty: A Platonic Dialogue 86
V. The Position of Plato to the Greek World 1 15
vi. The Probable Future of Metaphysics 1 18
vii. The Possibility of Separating rjBiKiq from ttoXitlk^
iTTKJrrjfxrj 122
viii. ‘All words mean either things or relations of things’ 125
ix. Parmenides 127
JOURNAL (1866-75) 131
LECTURE NOTES: RHETORIC 265
i. ‘Rhythm and the other structural parts of Rhetoric —
verse’ 267
ii. ‘Poetry and verse’ 289
Notes 291
Appendixes
. i. Hopkins’s Drawings 453
ii. Hopkins as Musician 457
iii. Philological Notes 499
iv. Catalogue of Manuscripts 529
V. Hopkins’s Resolutions and ‘Slaughter of the innocents’ 537
vi. The Organization of the Society of Jesus 541
VI
CONTENTS
Maps »
i. Oxford 544.
ii. Bovey Tracey 545
iii. Stonyhurst district 546
iv. Isle of Man 54^
V. St. Beuno’s district 548
Indexes:
i. First Lines of Poems and Fragments from the early
Diaries ^4g
ii. Index of Persons and Places 551
iii. Index of Words and Subjects 569
LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS
Gerard Manley Hopkins, 1863: from a group
photograph, Balliol College Frontispiece
Between pages 4^6 and ^57
Sketches from the early Diaries, 1863-6: Fir;s i-ag
PLATES
1. ‘North Road, Highgatc. March 12th 1862’
2. ‘Dandelion, Hemlock and Ivy. The Field, Blunt House, Croydon. April-
July 1862’
3. Heading: Vision of the Mermaids* (Christmas 1862)
4. The Hare and the Tortoise
5. Heading: letter to Milicent Hopkins
6. ‘Fashionable Variation of the Sinking figure in the Lancers; now called
the “Setting of the Evening Star’’’
7. Heading: letter to .\rthur Hopkins
8. Heading: letter to Arthur Hopkins
9. Hedgerow leaves and branches
10. Iris. ‘Manor Farm. Shanklin. July 8. 1863*
11. ‘Rock in the cliff copse. Shanklin. July. 1863’
12. Waves. ‘Study from the cliff above, Freshwater Gate. July 23' (1863)
13. Clouds. ‘July 29 or 30’ and ‘July 31’ (1863)
14. ‘Sun Corner, Cliffs near the Needles Point. July 23’ (1863)
15. ‘In hollow betw^een Apse and the American Woods. Near Shanklin.
Aug 8’. (1B63)
16. Coast-scene
17. ‘Benenden, Kent, fr. Heinstcd Park. Oct. ii. 1863*
18. ‘Beech, Godshill Church behind. Fr. Appledurcombc. July 25’ (? 1865)
19. ‘Sf. Bartholomew. Aug. 24. ’65. Betw. Ashburton and Newton Abbot’
20. Trees and hedge on a bank. ‘Sept. 1865’
2 1 . Man in a punt
22. ‘April 8. Day of the Boat race. On the ChcrwelP
23. ‘On the BoUen, Cheshire’
LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS
Between pages 4g6 and ^57
24. ‘Shanklin, Isle of Wight 1866’
25. Tree. ‘Aug. 22, ’67 Finchley’
26. Tree. ‘Near Oxford*
27. Tree. ‘June 26 *68*
28. ‘At the Baths of Roscnlaui — July i8’ (1868)
29. Tree. ‘Sept. 4, ’68’
30. Woman seated
31. ‘Balaglas, Isle of Man. Aug. 12, ’73*
32. ‘Monastcrevan Dec. 29 ’88’
33. ‘Lord Massey’s domain, Co. Dublin April 22 1889’
PREFACE
Hopkins’s note-books and papers were first edited by Humphry
House in 1937, in one volume which contained his Journal and selec-
tions from diaries, undergraduate essays, sermons, and other spiritual
writings. That book* has long been out of print; and the recovery of
Hopkins MSS has gone on. In 1947 three more of his Journal note-
books were discovered by Fr D. A. Bischoff, SJ, at the Jesuit Pro-
vinciate in Farm Street. In 1952 Lionel Hopkins, Gerard’s last
remaining brother, died, aged 97; and House was invited to search
The Garth, Haslemere (the Hopkins family home for over fifty
years) for further MSS. Here he found and catalogued over seventy
new letters, t retreat notes, sketches, and music ;J and, with them,
a mass of other long-accumulated family material: letters, photon-
graphs, scrap-books, papers of all kinds. All this was clearly of con-
siderable value in filling out the little-known details of Hopkins’s
early years, and an essential background to a new edition of the
note-books.
It was decided a year later, in 1953, rq)ublish the Note-Books
and Papers^ with the newly discovered and previously unpublished
material. This task House planned as two volumes: Hopkins’s
secular writings, which he undertook himself; and the religious
writings, which Fr Christopher Devlin, SJ, agreed to edit. A com-
mon editorial policy was agreed on for both volumes. House was
working on this, his own volume — together with a biography of the
young Hopkins — until his tragic death in February 1955. His literary
executor, Mr Rupert Hart-Davis, and Mrs House invited me to
finish it a year later.
In doing so, I have done my best to follow House’s principles, al-
though aware that I have often fallen short of his exacting standards.
The spade-work of the preparation of the new MS material had
already been done; as had a great deal of the new annotation. In
completing it, I have drawn freely on the mass of material House
had collected over the many years he had devoted to Hopkins, as
well as on his typescript of the biography. To the experience of
coming to know Hopkins through his diaries and papers was added
that of following the mind of a remarkable editor at work. The only
* The NoU^Books and Papers of Gerard Manley HopkinSy edited by Hunipliry House,
OUP, 1937.
t These, mostly to Hopkins’s father and mother, were published by C, C. Abbott
in Further Letters of Gerard Manley HopkinSy 2nd edn, 1956.
{ All now in the Bodleian.
LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS
Between pages 4§6 and 4^7
24. ‘Shanklin, Isle of Wight 1866*
25. Tree. ‘Aug. 22, *67 Finchley*
26. Tree. ‘Near Oxford’
27. Tree. ‘June 26 ’68’
28. ‘At the Baths of Roscnlaui— July 18’ (1868)
29. Tree. ‘Sept. 4, ’68’
30. Woman seated
31. ‘Balaglas, Isle of Man. Aug. 12, ’73’
32. ‘Monasterevan Dec. 29 ’88’
33. ‘Lord Massey’s domain, Co. Dublin April 22 1889’
PREFACE
Hopkins’s note-books and papers were first edited by Humphry
House in 1937, in one volume which contained his Journal and selec-
tions from diaries, undergraduate essays, sermons, and other spiritual
writings. That book* has long been out of print; and the recovery of
Hopkins MSS has gone on. In 1947 three more of his Journal note-
books were discovered by Fr D. A. Bischoff, SJ, at the Jesuit Pro-
vinciate in Farm Street. In 1952 Lionel Hopkins, Gerard’s last
remaining brother, died, aged 97; and House was invited to search
The Garth, Haslemere (the Hopkins family home for over fifty
years) for further MSS. Here he found and catalogued over seventy
new letters, t retreat notes, sketches, and music;! and, with them,
a mass of other long-accumulated family material: letters, photo-
graphs, scrap-books, papers of all kinds. All this was clearly of con-
siderable value in filling out the litde-known details of Hopkins’s
early years, and an essential background to a new edition of the
note-books.
It was decided a year later, in 1953, to republish the Note-Books
and Papers, with the newly discovered and previously unpublished
material. This task House planned as two volumes: Hopkins’s
secular writings, which he undertook himself; and the religious
writings, which Fr Christopher Devlin, SJ, agreed to edit. A com-
mon editorial policy was agreed on for both volumes. House was
working on this, his own volume — together with a biography of the
young Hopkins — until his tragic death in February 1955. His literary
executor, Mr Rupert Hart-Davis, and Mrs House invited me to
finish it a year later.
In doing so, I have done my best to foJlow House’s principles, al-
though aware that I have often fallen short of his exacting standards.
The spade-work of the preparation of the new MS material had
already been done; as had a great deal of the new annotation. In
completing it, I have drawn freely on the mass of material House
had collected over the many years he had devoted to Hopkins, as
well as on his typescript of the biography. To the experience of
coming to know Hopkins through his diaries and papers was added
that of following the mind of a remarkable editor at work. The only
• The Note~Books and Papers of Getard Manley Hopkins, edited by Humpliry House,
OUP, 1937.
t These, mostly to Hopkins’s father and mother, were published by C. C. Abbott
in Further Letters of Gerard Manley Hopkins, 2nd edn, 1956.
} All now in the Bodleian.
X
PREFACE
addition to House’s original plan has .been the inclusion of Hopkins s
music. The suggestion that this was the right time and place to
publish it complete came from Dr John Stevens, Fellow of Magdalene
College, who agreed to edit it; and the decision to do so was made
with the full approval of House’s literary executor and the publishers.
The removal from the original Note-Books and Papers of the religious
writings, the addition of newly discovered material, and the printing
of the two Oxford Diaries virtually complete, have so changed the
book that to keep the original Preface intact and add a new one
could only have confused the reader. House had clearly intended to
rewrite the Preface and had left several notes and pointers towards
doing this. He was particularly anxious, as a correspondence with
Lord Bridges makes clear, to tell the story of the guardianship of
Hopkins’s papers by Robert Bridges in the greater detail now possible.
This new Preface is consequently an attempt to fuse the old and the
new material, retaining the relevant parts of House’s original Preface
and including several of his new sections (the paragraphs on the
annotation, for example, are entirely his, as are those explaining the
principles for transcription of the verse). As in the first edition, this
Preface is used not for personal comment on Hopkins, but to giv^e a his-
tory of the MSS, to explain them in relation to one another and to the
poems and letters already published. In this way it will be clearer how
these Journals and papers stand to the whole work Hopkins was doing
at the times they cover, and to the total material that has survived.
At his death on 8 June 1889, Hopkins's papers were left in his room
at 86 St Stephen’s Green, Dublin. Within about a week Robert
Bridges wrote to Fr Thomas Wheeler, then Minister and Vice-
President of University College, Dublin, who had attended Hopkins
in his illness, asking for his own letters.
I wrote to Father Wheeler to ask him to return to me any of my letters to
Gerard which might still be kept among his papers : and h(' in his reply
promised to do so, and said that Gerard had given instructions about his
papers &c. From this I think it very likely that whatever there is of per-
sonal interest will be sent to you, in which case I shd. not have much to
add. But I shall hear of this perhaps later on from Mr. Hopkins, and he will
tell me what you would wish.*
The only surviving letter from Fr Wheeler to Bridges is dated 27
October 1889 and must be in an.swer to a further request for Hop-
kins s papers. The full text, of which the most pertinent sentences
have already been published,f is as follows:
F. Hopkins had a presentiment that he would not recover — but I am sure
he took no measure to arrange his papers, and gave no instructions about
* RB to Mrs Hopkins: 19 June 1889.
t In LL, i. vi, reprinted in NB [1937], p. xii.
PREFACE
xi
preserving or destroying them. Any suggestion to that effect would be made
to me — and he never broached the subject at all. He gave some instructions
as to some books and papers he had the loan of: directions as to whom they
should be sent — but nothing further. So I cannot fancy what he would have
wished to be done with them. As for myself I looked in a hurried way through
his papers but cannot say that I read any of them. Letters which 1 recognised
by your writing or initials I set apart to forward. Many others I destroyed :
and when I learned your wish to sift these writings in view to publication or
selection I gathered them together indiscriminately and sent them to be used
by you or his parents, at your discretion. From the bent of F. Gerards mind
and work I should think he would have been glad to leave something per-
manent in literature or art, and I was much surprised to see how little he left
in the way of sketches or drawings. Some of the poetry contained in the Mss.
volume I read with admiration.
You see how little help I can give regarding F. Gerard’s wishes. Perhaps
F. Knight* will be able to give you some clearer information as to Fr Gerards
wishes, or may suggest something as to his own.
In this way the bundle of papers reached Bridges that he later
called H in his Notes to Hopkins’s Poems,
Among the papers found on Lionel Hopkins’s death, and now in
the Bodleian, are a series of letters from Bridges to Mrs Hopkins and,
later, to Kate Hopkins, concerning his guardianship of Hopkins’s
poems and papers. They run from June 1889 to October 1920. To
complete the details, Lord Bridges has generously made available his
father’s own papers on the subject. This is not the place to tell the
story of the poems. But one important point can be made here. It
is quite clear from these letters that in the absence of any known will
of Hopkins's, Bridges reasonably assumed that the Hopkins family
owned both the papers and the copyright in them. When, therefore,
in May 1909, Fr Joseph Keating, SJ, asked for the loan of any of
Hopkins's poems in his possession, with the proposal that the Jesuits
should edit them, Bridges considered that he was not in a position to
hand them over or legally to grant or refuse permission to edit them
to anybody, except at Mrs Hopkins’s request; and this the Jesuits
finally accepted. The copyright question was not in fact cleared up
until the discovery by Fr Bischoff in 1947 of Hopkins’s will, by which
he left all he possessed to the Society of Jesus in England.
What is relevant here is the handling by Bridges of Hopkins’s
other papers. By September 1889 he was already contemplating a
memoir of his friend (T have at present no notion at all as to the
sort of thing which the “memoir” will be’, he wrote to Mrs Hopkins
on 16 September 1889) : he w<ls unlikely, then, to have parted with
papers to the family before then. On 23 October 1889 he sent the
* Fr Arthur Knight, SJ, had been secretary to the Provincial at Farm Street
since x88i : he is not mentioned in the correspondence again.
PREFACE
xii
scrap-book of MSS, which he had made from the papers Fr Wheeler
had given to him, for Mrs Hopkins to see (this was returned long
before he edited the poems). There are no further references to pass-
ing on papers to the Hopkins family until 1918, when the Poem were
in the press and he decided to clear up all Hopkins’s loose papers in
his possession. The inference is that — apart from his own collection
of MSS poems (A in his Notes), the letters to himself and the corre-
spondence between Hopkins and Canon Dixon — what he then men-
tioned constituted all that he had. In two letters to Kate Hopkins
that autumn Bridges lists these papers with his customary exactness.
On 14 October 1889 he wrote to her:
I am writing because I want to clear up all the papers that have collected,
and about some of them I do not know what you wd. wish me to do,
1 There are the copies of the school prize poems. These I will return as
sent to me.
2 The scrap bk in wh. the MSS that came to the family at Gerard’s death
were pasted. This bk was kept in a safe at Oxford: and reappeared quite
mouldy, but the MSS altogether uninjured. I set them all in a new ‘album’
(a better sort of book), in the old order: and I preserved the old index.
Now there are a good many other MS poems among the loose papers. I want
to know if I shall select from them and paste into this new book (after the
other old contents) the MS which I think ought to have their place with
them,
I think this wd. be convenient, & you wd. then know that there was
nothing specially valuable among the loose papers.
3 There is a bundle of what is practically worthless-old examination
papers, and schemes for discovering the Structure of Greek choruses etc etc.
which cd. be of no possible use to any one but the writer.
I will either return this lot as it is or use my judgement in burning it. I
think it ought to be burned.
4 There are some private papers which ought never to have been sent. It
was an oversight of the priests. One in particular, which records his medita-
tions in retreat. I have copied the part of this which is of political oW personal
interest: and will return you the original. I will put this into a separate
envelope and fix that in some way into the Album.
You sec what 1 wish to know is i whether I shall complete the album as 1
surest and 2 whether you wish me to burn the rubbish, or whether you will
.mdertake to do that kind office, if I return it. I think it is my duty to see that
It IS cleared up.
And on 28 November:
hale^ ‘“^cther the documenu wh. I
There will be two books, and a folio case with loose things in it The two
br^hJ? ; S H This B ‘o ‘he poems 2 the
. his is identical with the album which I made up at the
PREFACE
xiii
time of Gerard’s death — only that bk. having gone mouldy and rotten I have
procured a new bk. and had it lettered on the back. I have added one or two
MS to this collection, and I have tied into the end of it an envelope which
you will find to contain some MS notes which Gerard made of his medita-
tions in retreat. Time are very private^ and were certainly not intended to be
read: but they arc a valuable & unimpeachable testimony to the mental
trouble that he suffered from being obliged to witness the disloyal plotting of
his Society in Ireland — and together with his letters to me will some day be
wanted. In one of the records there is a very interesting & touching passage
about his prayers that his poems might be protected from abuse. I have
made and kept copies of the most important paragraphs. 3 is a folio case wh.
contains the two prize poems and other things lent to me. There is a list of
contents written on the inside of the cover.
The scrap-book, H, has been mentioned already. The ‘private
papers’, referred to in both letters, are the Retreat notes Hopkins
made at Beaumont, 3-10 September 1883, and at Tullabeg, i
January 1889, now in the Bodleian and published in full in Sermons,
There are copies among Bridges’s papers of the paragraph beginning
‘Also in some med. today. . .’ (Beaumont, 7 September 1883 : Sermons y
pp. 253-4), and of the first part of the long note made at Tullabeg,
I January 1889 {Sermons^ pp. 261-4). Bridges copied out this second
extract on 9 May 1918, and added this note : ‘All this which bears date
of i888t is in GMH’s hand and is wTitten v small, and the script
suggests that the doubtfully dated sonnet MSJ maybe of same time.
I have seen nothing else written by Gerard so small in size of script
as these notes and those Sonnets. RB. I think 1888 is too late thoit
is January in the year and possible.’
Although the evidence is not explicit, the strong inference from
these two letters is that, with Kate Hopkins’s agreement, Bridges
burnt the ‘bundle of what is practically worthless’ . Certsunly nothing
has survived that could be identified with it. The ‘schemes for dis-
covering the Structure of Greek choruses’ must have belonged to the
projected work on Greek metres, often mentioned in letters to Bridges.
But what other ‘beginnings of things’ were here it is impossible to
say. There may have been something on Homer {LL, i. 251) or
Sophocles {LLy i. 277) or Duns Scotus, whom Hopkins studied for
many years, or on the text of St Patrick’s Confession {LL, i. 195) : but
these can only be guesses. The letters make clear that a great deal of
the work Hopkins projected at different times could never have
advanced ver>' far; the mere number and variety of the schemes
W’ould make that impossible. These notes or rough drafts, sent to
Bridges after his death, may have been all that was achieved of many
♦ Extracts in LI., iii. 446-8.
t It should be 18B9: see LL, iii. 190.
J Presumably Poems, Nos. 68-71 : sec RB’s note at p. 249.
XIV
PREFACE
of Hopkins’s plans; or, again, all there was left if he destroyed his
notes himself. .
There was long a traditional belief in the Society of Jesus that he
did destroy papers. Fr J. P. O’Donohoe, for instance, wrote to Fr
Keating (i8 January 1909), ‘I am afraid I can give you no informa-
tion about any possible MSS., indeed I fear that the good man
destroyed his work wholesale — this is only an impression, but I seem
to remember stories to this effect’. We have some statements of
Hopkins’s own. Writing to A. W. M. Baillic on 8 May 1885, he said :
Some time since, I began to overhaul my old letters, accumulations of
actually ever since I was at school, destroying all but a very few, and growing
ever lother to destroy, but also to read, so that at last I' left off reading; and
there they lie and my old notebooks and beginnings of things, ever so many,
which it seems to me might well have been done, ruins and wrecks; but on
this theme I will not enlarge by pen and ink. However there were many of
your letters among them and overflowing with kindness. . . .*
The implication is that up to within four years of his death his habit
was to keep papers, even those of no importance and of very early
date, though some letters were thrown away : and this is confirmed
by what survives. The often-quoted passage in the letter to Dixon
(5 October 1878) about the burning of early verses is endorsed in the
same letter to Baillic — he is writing still about their old correspon-
dence: T forget what the verses were I shewed you and you “did not
criticise”. It is putting friendship unwisely to a strain to shew verses,
neither did I do it much. Those verses were afterwards burnt and
I wrote no more for seven years.’ Yet, as the first edition of the
Note- Books showed, drafts survive of many of these verses.
If he did in later life destroy much more, he seems to have chosen
very strangely. When we remember that the MSS we now have
were long neglected, have been through many hands and often
scattered, it is difficult to believe that a good deal has not been lost or
destroyed by other people. Fr Lahcy has stated that Hopkins des-
troyed his ‘spiritual diary’ himself. f But we know now- that onediary —
on which was written ^Please do not open tfiis ^ — was burnt, unread, by
Hopkins’s two sisters. J W. H. Gardner, House, and others have
assumed it to have been a spiritual dia^\^ But this is only an assunip-
tion; and the first of the newly discovered Journal note-books is
marked on the outside ‘Private J.’, and inside the front cover ‘Please
not to read’. The burnt diary could conceivably have been one of the
missing parts of the Journal.
♦ /-f , iii. 255.
T P- 135* "The authority for this, Fr I..ahcy has written privately, was a
wh^om sec p° CiMH’s contemporary, Fr Joseph Rickaby, SJ (for
+ Sec Gardner, ii, p. viii, for Grace Hopkins's letter giving an account of this.
PREFACE
XV
Apart from the papers sent to Bridges, a great number remained in
Dublin. Many years after Hopkins’s death, Fr Matthew Russell, SJ,
the editor of the Irish Monthly^ who had known him well, wrote to
Orby Shipley (19 May 1902): ‘The remains of Father Hopkins’
writings were left here, in Dublin.”• ** Some passed into the hands of
Fr Henry Browne, Hopkins’s successor in the chair of Greek, as a
matter of course; others stayed in the drawers of his desk, where they
were seen long after his death. It seems that people then borrowed
what interested them, and often kept it. No adequate steps were
taken to keep the papers safe, or even to put them together in one
place; and for many years they passed about from hand to hand
without supervision.! The two later volumes of the Journal were
brought together by pure coincidence (see p. xxv); and it is not
known when the three earlier ones were sent to Farm Street.
The first systematic attempt to bring all the remains together was
made by Fr Keating in 1 909. He searched widely and brought all that
could be found into his own hands. The result of his work was the valu-
able series of three articles, ‘Impressions of Father Gerard Hopkins,
SJ’, in The Month (July, August, September, 1909). Further matericil
reached him after that from Dublin and other parts of Ireland. This
collection, now at Campion Hall, Oxford, is the basis of this volume
and of Sermons, as it was of the first edition. To it Fr Bischoff has
added the three Journal note-books found at Farm Street, as well as
the various poems and fragments noted in Appendix IV. Regrets
for the incompleteness of what we have are governed by its value.
The publication of Further Letters, including the new family letters,
leaves much less of Hopkins's life untouched or obscure. But the new
Journal fills in many details; and the later Journal of 1868-75, the
first years in the Society of Jesus during which only five letters were
written to Bridges, and before the correspondence with Dixon began,
tells us much more than do the rather thin letters Hopkins wrote to
his mother. In the early Diaries are many of the verses once thought
to have been burnt ; the notes ‘Rhythm and the other structural parts
of Rhetoric’ fill the gap between the early immature poems and the
sudden appearance of Sprung Rhythm in full theory and practice —
they explain the seven years’ silence ; while the book of sermons and
the notes on the Spiritual Exercises^ do more than the letters to give
some idea of his life as a busy priest on Jesuit Missions and to supple-
ment the religious tliought of the poems contemporary with them.
Besides this material there are many notes and fragments valuable
for adding to our knowledge of years already well knowm. These
• The letter is among the papers of Robert Bridges.
t This is based on personal inquiries by Humphry House.
; Published in full m Sermons,
b
BoesB
XVI
PREFACE
miscellaneous papers are all mentioned in Appendix IV. Those on
which the present texts are based must be discussed separately.
A. Early Diaries
The earliest reference to any journal kept by Hopkins is in a letter
to G. N. Luxmoore, 7 May 1862 (LL, iii. i), in which he writes out a
quotation from it under the date 13 April. That quotation, as in the
first edition, opens this book. But the journal from which it is taken
is not extant; and we now know that on i June 1866 he burnt parts
of it at Oxford (see p. 138). Daily notes begin in two (small identical
green pocket-books (4.9 by 2.9 inches) described in Appendix IV as
C. I and C. II, now printed virtually complete. The jfct is dated on
the fly-leaf 24 September 1863; the second, which runs on con-
tinuously from it, is only half filled and the last date — two pages from
the end — is 23 January 1866. They thus cover his first two and a
quarter years as an undergraduate, and end nine months before his
reception into the Catholic Church, and three and a half months
before he began to keep his daily notes as a Journal. Together they
contain 292 (181 -|- 1 1 1) used pages or parts of pages.
In these two books he entered indiscriminately every kind of
memorandum: time-tables of lectures; notes about money, furniture,
breakfast parties, wine parties, books read and books to be read, the
uses of words; descriptions and drawings of things seen; notes for
poetry and the first drafts of many verses. In the second book he
begins (25 March 1865) a daily record of his moral and spiritual life,
which as the year goes on takes up more and more of the space. The
entries are almost entirely in pencil; the writing always small, and as
time goes on still smaller and beautifully neat. Notes are often
smudged, often cancelled ; parts of some pages have been cut out ; a
few pages preserved loose. The moral and spiritual notes were scored
through in pencil by Hopkins, but are mostly quite legible.
The habits of mind shown in the poems and later Journal are
already far developed. He has the same way of looking at clouds,
sunsets, trees, streams, and birds, and the same way of analysing
what he sees in them; the same passion for architectural detail; the
same interest in the remote applications of words, their ‘prepossession
of feeling’ and possible etymology.
All the verse from the two Diaries which was published in Note-
Books and Papers has been reprinted in the third edition of Poems ( 1 948) ,
with the single exception of the continuation of Richard Garnett’s
The Nix (given at p. 64). That edition of the poems also contains
eight further pieces from C. II (listed at p. 276) ; and the fifth im-
pression, 1956, added, from C. I, three more: The Peacock* s Eye^ *Miss
PREFACE xvii
Story’s Character!* and lo. None of the more finished versions there
printed is repeated here; but references to Poems show the chrono-
logical place of each in the text. Earlier drafts or alternative readings
of some of those poems, however, seemed interesting enough to be
given. Drafts of The Peacock's Eye^ New Readings^ Heaven-Haven (under
the title Rest^ a similar version copied out by D. M. Dolben has the
title Fair Havens \ or The Convent) * and Easter Communion^ are printed
complete; as are two stanzas, particularly worked at, of A Soliloquy
of one of the Spies \ and variants to individual lines of the sonnets
‘Where art thou friend’ and ‘Myself unholy, from myself unholy’.
The remaining verse from the two note-books — about 500 lines,
apart from variant readings — is now printed for the first time. Much
of it is scrappy and experimental : the forming of his poetic vocabu-
lary and the testing of images, often tried out in fragments only
a few lines long. The main interest of much, again, lies in showing
the bent and prepossessions of his mind in the first flush of writing
poetry. But many of the fragments have a characteristic beauty; and
in the constant trying out of fresh metres, alternate forms, positions
of words, we can watch him closely at work.
With all this, there are several interesting additions. The sonnet
‘Confirmed beauty will not bear a stress’ (27-30 April 1B65), al-
though perhaps not in its final shape, t can stand beside the other
sonnets written in the same fortnight, ‘Where art thou friend’ and
the sequence The Beginning of the End : all are marked by a personal
feeling and energy rare in these early poems. The incomplete third
sonnet To Oxford^ given to V. S. S. Coles, was probably written — as
were the much better two sent to Addis — during Lent 1865, al-
though not entered until 26 June.
Two and a half missing pages from the Diaries, traced and restored
to Campion Hall by Fr D. A. Bischoff, have added some further
verse. The half-page, cut out of C. I, is numbered 191 and belongs to
August 1864, when Hopkins was staying in North Wales with A. E.
Hardy and Edward Bond. On one side is the drawing ‘Gerard
Hopkins, reflected in a lake. Aug. 14’ (see Fig. 27); on the other,
a stanza of six lines, beginning ‘Glimmer’d along the square-cut
steep’, and three lines of a second stanza which, although of a
different rhyme-scheme and length, appears to be a continuation of
it. The other two pages (four sides), from C. II, can only be dated
with certainty between i October 1864 and 29 January 1865: but
they probably belong to November 1864. The pages of C. II, unlike
those of C. I, are not numbered; and the only clue to where these
two had been torn out is the beginning, at the end of the second, of
Dolben Family Papers (Northants. Record Society, Lamport Hall),
t In addition, (?)two words are illegible in MS.
B 6«28 b 2
xviii
PREFACE
a pungent seven-line lampoon in Alexandrines, Proved Etherege
prudish, selfish, hypocrite, heartless,’ which linfe up with two Imes-
meaningless before-left in the Diary. Entered just above that is For
a Picture of St. Dorothea (‘I bear a basket lined with grass ), the first of
the poems Hopkins later copied out for Bridges. It has no title here
and is written straight out with only one variant. Before these two
pages came to light, House suggested that Hopkins’s note to Baillie
of March 1864, ‘I have written a thing I may send you called Grass is
my garland^ (of which there is no trace elsewhere) might refer to an
earlier poem on St Dorothea. It now seems more than likely that the
two poems are in fact the same; that this is a fair copy of the poem
which was written before or during March; and th^t it received its
final title only when written out for Bridges. The text is not printed,
as, except for minor variants mainly of punctuation, it is the same as
that given to Bridges and published in Poe 7 ns, Later in C. II (March
1865), two quatrains divided between two speakers A and B, begin-
ning ‘A basket broad of woven white rods’, are entered; these may
be a first, abandoned attempt at the later dramatic version of St.
Dorothea (unpublished, but see RB’s note, Poenu, p. 217).
G. I has three further short poems or fragments to which Hopkins
himself gave titles: The Lover's Stars (mentioned to Baillie July-
August 1864: LL, iii. 213), of which an attempt to give an approxi-
mate text has been made, by fusing two alternative plans; Love
preparing to Jly, possibly complete; and The Rainbow, a short fragment
of blank verse, which may have been meant to be incoiporated in a
longer poem. There are also three more two-lined epigrams, and
drafts for a longer one. These were all written between the middle of
July and the beginning of September 1864. Two untitled fragments
in C. II should also be mentioned: ‘When eyes that cast about in
heights of heaven’ (February 1865), which may be an incomplete
draft for a sonnet; and ‘O Death, Death, He is come’ (r. 10 or 1 1
March 1865), possibly one stanza of a projected religious poem.
The rest of the longer fragments scattered through both Diaries
belong to more ambitious projects : to two verse plays, Ploris in Italy
and Castara Victrix or Castara Felix, and to two long narrative poems,
Richard and Stephen and Barberie. At Floris in Italy Hopkins worked
intermittently from at any rate July 1864 (see letter to Baillie: LL, iii,
213) to September 1865, and possibly longer: first as a narrative,
then as a play. Parts of the narrative version may have been on
twenty-one pages torn out of C. I after the first drafts of Pilate (J unc
1864) ; but the fragments which certainly belong to the poem are all
dramatic and all confused. In an attempt to make a readable text of
^out sixty continuous lines of one scene in blank verse, at the end of
G. I, three fragments have been moved forward from various dates
PREFACE
XIX
in August 1864, and one back from the end of September. A comic
scene in indifferent prose follows and continues into C. 11 . Astorm-
scene, also in prose, with a half-mad man outside the cave of a dead
hermit, may belong to a subplot; and this leads on directly to a pass-
age of twelve lines of blank verse, beginning ‘O Guinevere . , .*
(September 1864). The extract published in Poems is entered about
9 September 1865. In June 1864 ^in early attempt to write the first
section of Richard^ a modern pastoral set in the country round
Cumnor, in alternately rhyming stanzas: the four sections already
published come from C. II (October-November 1864 and July
1865) and are in rhymed couplets. The blank verse fragment of
narrative marked Tor Stephen and Barberie\ entered (?) January 1865,
is all that certainly belongs to that poem. Castara Vicirix or Castara
Felix seems to have been a more serious project: the list of characters
is entered on 5 August 1865; on i September comes the poem headed
‘Daphne’, the name of one of the characters (it is possibly a song for
her in the play); and immediately afterwards come the three
separate fragments of scenes, together making up fifty-five lines of
blank verse. Some of the remaining lines of verse may have been
meant to be incorporated in one or other of these four longer pieces;
or in some of the poems mentioned earlier.
In Appendix V, House has given his reasons for being all but certain
that Hopkins’s Journal entry for ii May 1868, ‘Slaughter of the
innocents’, refers to the burning of his poems on that day. No fresh
evidence has come to light to change House’s earlier conclusion
that these poems probably included material contemporary with
C. I and C. II (better drafts or finished versions). But the exceptions
to what Hopkins burnt of the poems written between January 1866
and May 1 868 have mounted up. In addition to Heaven-Haven, The
Nightingale, Nondum, Easter, The Habit of Perfection, and the various
versions of St, Dorothea, of all of which autograph MSS exist, we must
now add the six Latin poems and translations, together with a few
fragments, found inside the new Journal,* and published in Poems,
pp. 179-85. Of these, Inundatio Oxoniana may have been written in
1865 (see Poems, note at p. 263); one set of Latin Elegiacs was
written after 18 July 1867; and two (probably all) of the translations
during the following winter or early spring, when Hopkins was teach-
ing at the Oratory School, Edgbaston, and moving towards a decision
about his vocation.* Despite the burning, remarkably little of his
work known from letters or these two Diaries remains altogether un-
accounted for; and there are many indications that even in his later
time as an undergraduate Hopkins’s increasing piety led him to re-
strict his verse-writing.
♦ Sec p. 534.
PREFACE
XX
The most important additions to the prose ^acts are the notes on
words of which only a few examples could be given in
edition. These are most frequent in C. I, from Septeinber 1863 to the
following February, when Hopkins was working for Mods; and they
often fill pages at a time. Their importance as a storehouse of memory
for future poetic use is obvious; and many of the word-lists show in
miniature his future delight in a rich and ‘heightened’ vocabulary
and in packed alliteration and assonance. But they also show an
unusual absorption in purely philological problems. House found
these notes sufficiently interesting in this sense to ask his colleague,
Alan Ward, of Wadham College, his opinion of them as a philologist;
and Ward considered them impressive enough for hipi to contribute
an appendix,* examining in detail Hopkins’s philological claims,
guesses and discoveries, in their historical context.
The notes on architecture, which also could not be adequately
represented before, gain greatly from the drawings with which
Hopkins illustrated them in the text. A selection of these, together
with other sketches from the two Diaries chosen by House, are repro-
duced in the appendix of Hopkins’s drawings.
There is one further attempt at prose fiction: a facetious story,
‘related in the Manner of Arnold and Liddell’, written October-
November 1863 and called The legend of the Rape of the Scout \ and, in
(?)February 1864, a possible synopsis for a projected prose-work on
Ajax, based on Sophocles’s play.
After discussion wdth interested people and other lovers of Hopkins,
I have followed House’s decision, in the first edition, not to print any
of the moral and spiritual notes which Hopkins crossed out himself.
These notes of daily self-examination, afterwards cancelled, were
plainly made for the purpose of confession; and that seems reason
enough not to publish them. But siiould it not be accepted as
sufficient, there is a cogent editorial reason too. They are, as to be
expected, repetitive and of no literary value. Any selection w'ould be
invidious; to print them complete w'ould undoubtedly mar the
literary attractiveness of the second Diar\*. To discerning readers of
Hopkins’s poetry, these details of his undergraduate scruples would
in any case offer little new. Two entries, bracketed within the
spiritual note for the day and not crossed out by Hopkins, have been
printed: the second is the most interesting note for 6 November 1865
(see p. 70 - The notes for confession also contain the only tw*o refer-
ences in these Diaries to Bridges: here principle has broken down,
and both will be found, not in the text, but in the biographical note
about him A few details concerning some of Hopkins s other friends
ave a so been taken from these notes, but are not quoted verbatim.
* Appendix III.
PREFACE
xxi
Most of the dates in square brackets, in C. II, come from the same
source.
These Diaries were evidently used whenever the need or impulse
came to write anything down; one entry thus often occurs in the
middle of another, sometimes even breaking a sentence. The punctua-
tion and other details are very erratic and often far from clear. It
would have been a self-defeating project to attempt to give an exact
representation in type of such casual and various matter: even the
attempt to apply utterly consistent principles of transcription broke
down in practice. The patience of the most pedantic reader (or
editor) would be exhausted by descriptions of all the editorial changes
seriatim in the notes, or even by a full summary of them here. Yet
some explanations, mainly about the verse, are necessary.
Fragments of identifiable single poems (w ith the exception of those
from Floris in Italy, already discussed) have been brought together at
the earliest date of the entry. Not all the differing drafts of the frag-
ments are printed, nor all the variants in the drafts which are given;
yet some significant alternative passages (in the scene from Floris in
Italy, for example) and verbal variations are presented as samples.
This is admittedly a policy of compromise; but it has seemed better
to present these fragments first in a relatively clear form, unobscured
by the complex technical apparatus which would otherwise be
needed, so that readers may judge w^hether a more elaboratedly
scrupulous editing w ould ever be deserved. Time and cost have been
powerful arguments for the same decision. Verse fragments which
cannot certainly be attributed to any one poem are printed in their
chronological place among the entries. A few other facts about the
drafts are given in the bracketed editorial notes in the text.
The prose raised far fewer problems. Entries clearly belonging to-
gether, but broken up in the text, have, like the verse, been brought
together under the first entry. This is not so frequent as with the verse
fragments : but on p. 53, for example, the four short entries printed
below the entry on De Quincey came after the first tw^o lines of that
note; and, on p. 56, the title of Meredith’s novel, Emilia in England,
w^as broken at Emilia and completed seven pages later in the Diary.
The entries, otherwise, are in chronological order. A few trivial
shopping lists, domestic memoranda, unconnected addresses and lists
of names have been omitted.
B. Undergraduate Essays, &c.
On the Origin of Beauty: A Platonic Dialogue, Poetic Diction, 'All
words mean either things or relations of things’, and Parmenides were pub-
lished in the first edition. Five more of the essays Hopkins wrote as an
XXll
PREFACE
undergraduate have been added from his various Oxford note-books.
Although these were written for tutors (one for the Master of Balliol),
they show, like the dialogue, a fusion of ‘compulsory’ and spontaneous
mental life: a fusion also found in the lectures given at Roehampton
in 1873-4 (see p. xxvii), in which too he developed lines of argument
outlined in the dialogue and some of the essays. They are printed in
approximate chronological order, so far as it can be worked out.
1 . On the Signs of Health and Decay in the Arts is the sixth essay from
D. I (‘Essays on Logic, Aesthetics, &c.’),* undated, but clearly the
earliest of these note-books. The first part is initialed ‘R. S.’ (Robert
Scott, Master of Balliol) ; a continuation of it, ‘N’ (possibly W. L.
Newman, Senior Dean). This and Poetic Diction (below), initialed
‘R. S.’ in red pencil, were general essays written for the Master, as is
still done at Balliol by undergraduates in their first year.
2. The Origin of our Moral Ideas was written for Walter Pater, who
became a Fellow of Brasenose in 1864 (it w^as probably through
Jowett that Hopkins was sent to him as a pupil). It is the first essay in
D. Ill (‘hissays for W. H. Pater, Esq.’); and the pencil underlinings
in it, reproduced in the text, are probably his (they are not Hopkins’s
own). The note-book is undated. Hopkins records that he was taught
by Pater during the Trinity Term of 1866 (Journal entry for 2 May :
see p. 133); there appears to be no evidence as to whether he was
Pater’s pupil before then. But one paragraph — ‘Beauty lies in the
relation of the parts of a sensuous thing to each other . . .’ (p. 80)
— is parallel to the thesis of the Platonic Dialogue; and is pillared (by
Pater ?) in faint pencil. It should also be compared with the speech
from Floris in Italy:
Beauty it may be is the meet of lines,
Or careful -spaced sequences of sound
{Poems, p. 142: from C. II, 9 Sept. 1865).
It is possible then that the essay belongs to 1865.
3. Poetic Diction, the third essay in D. II (‘Credit and the causes of
Commercial Crises &c.’j is undated: but the exact verbal parallels
between it and the dialogue make it likely that they were written at
about the same time, the dialogue probably the later of the two, as
the argument is more confident as well as greatly developed.
4. On the Origin of Beauty: A Platonic Dialogue is contained, complete
as printed, in a single and separate note-book (D. IV) dated 12 May
1865, The suggestion has been made that it too was written for
Pater. The parallel with The Origin of our Moral Ideas has already been
mentioned and it is likely that the dialogue is closely connected wdth
* I’or a description ol these note-h>ooks. see j>.
PREFACE
xxiii
things Hopkins discussed with Pater. But there is no evidence beyond
that. On 5 January 1865 Hopkins wrote to Baillic: ‘I am now toiling
through an essay for the Hcxameron,* but can you tell me what in
music answers to realism in painting? The other arts seem to depend
on truth (noiTruth) as well as Beauty.’ (LL, hi. 224,) This essay
may possibly have been the dialogue: although it would have taken
about two hours to read aloud.
The dialogue draws on notes from the two Diaries (e.g. the chest-
nut fan, the oak at Elsfield, &c.) : so that it is a compound of intimately
personal observation and academic work. The text is very carefully
written ; its few difficulties are mentioned in the notes. The under-
graduate was originally called ‘Clutterbuck’, but the name is under-
lined in pencil on the first page and above is written ‘read Hanbury
throughout’. The change seems to be Hopkins’s own, though this is
not certain.
5. The Position of Plato to the Greek Worlds from D. IX (‘Essays for
T. H. Green, Esq’), 6. The Probable Future of Metaphysics^ from D. X
(‘Essays Hilary Term ’67’), and 7. The Possibility of Separating 'qdiicq
from TToXiTL/crj imcmrjfjLrj, from D. XI (‘Essays for R. Williams’) are all
Greats essays. Only the second of these note-books is dated. But T. H.
Green succeeded James Riddell as a tutor of Balliol in September
1865 and probably took over Hopkins as a pupil at once; while
Robert Williams did not become a Fellow of Merton till 1866. These
two essays may, therefore, be provisionally dated late 1865 and
1866-7. All three share the idealist approach to metaphysical prob-
lems which we should expect.
8. 'All words mean either things or relations of things,'^
This fragment is dated 9 February 1868, and occurs in a note-book
(D. XII) headed ‘Notes on the history of Greek Philosophy, &c.’ The
book opens with general remarks on Greek philosophy beginning:
‘Great feature of the old Greek philosophy, Pater said, its holding
certain truths, chiefly logical, out of proportion to the rest of its
knowledge . . .’ Then there is a break, the date 9 February is given,
and these independent notes occupy the next five pages. They are
followed by a short note on Xenophanes, and then comes:
9. Parmenides^ a set of notes remarkable for the first extant use of
the words ‘inscape’ and ‘instress’.
c. Journal
The only Hopkins Journal known in 1937! printed in full in
the first edition and is here reprinted on pp. 177-263. It begins on
* The High Church Essay Society at Oxford to which Hopkins belonged: see
p. 328. •[* ITic two books described in Appendix IV as A, IV and A. V,
XXIV
PREFACE
19 July 1868, in the middle of a holiday in Switzerland with Edward
Bond, immediately before Hopkins entered the Jesuit novitiate; and
the last surviving entries refer to the first months of 1875, soon after
he had gone to St Beuno’s for his theology.
The earlier Journal, now printed before it, was discovered in
February 1947 by Fr Bischoff, among the papers of the Jesuit Pro-
vinciate in Farm Street. The MS is in three thin black exercise-books,
described in Appendix IV as A. I, A. II, and A. III. Extracts from
it have appeared in the domestic Jesuit quarterly Letters and Notices
(ed. Fr Bischoff, May and September 1947; January and May 1948),
in The Month (December 1950), and in Gerard Manley Hopkins:
Poems and Prose, ed. W. H. Gardner, 1953 (Penguin Poets). It
is in two parts, with a gap of almost exactly a year between them.
The first part begins on 2 May 1866, during Hopkins’s last term at
Oxford and just over three months after the last entry in his second
Diary; and ends on 24 July of the same year, a week after he ‘saw
clearly the impossibility of staying in the Church of England’. The
second begins on 10 July 1867, with a holiday in Paris spent with a
Russian friend from Christ Church, Basil Poutiatine, and continues
into the original Journal. Hopkins's decisions about his vocation are
recorded here, and the cryptic resolution, already mentioned, to
destroy his poems. A back-reference to 28 June (see p. 149) shows
that a Journal was kept for at any rate part of the period 25 July
1866 to 9 July 1867: and it seems natural to assume that it was con-
tinuous. The biographical interest of this early Journal is consider-
able, although its literary qualities are less striking than those of the
later Journal. Many of the entries — like those of his first eighteen
months in the Society of Jesus— are scrappy or short; and there are
fewer of the later confident and fully-explored landscapes and cloud-
scapes. Towards the end of it Hopkins is beginning to make regular
use of the words ‘inscape’ and ‘instress’: ‘instress' appears first in the
Journal on 27 June 1868 (p. 168; ; ‘inscaped’ on 7 July (p. 170) ; and
‘inscape’ on 16 July fp. 175). ^ m / /»
The new Journal, like the original one, is here published in full;
and for the same reasons as were given in the first edition. Many
entries in this too are mere notes of no intrinsic importance. But if
any omissions had been made readers w'ould have been rightly
suspicious; and any selection which represented either section of the
Journal as equally finished in all its parts would have been mislcad-
mg. 1 he shorter notes in the later Journal have an additional interest
m relation to the whole: they show how at certain periods Hopkins’s
deh^^ either by his opportunities, or by his
sidpreH t? contrast how carefully he con-
cred the writing of the more finished entries. Even lists of events
PREFACE
XXV
‘taken from Whitaker’ show the bias of his mind towards public
affairs.
Hopkins normally made rough notes of what he saw at the time of
seeing it, and wrote the Journal some time later from these notes.
We now know that for his tour of Switzerland in July 1868 he took a
small pocket-book (4 by 2| inches) ol‘ thick plain white paper,
similar to his sketch-books. Three pages from this are stuck into his
written-up Journal opposite the entries for 5 and 6 July (see p. 169) :
they contain, on one side, pencilled notes for those entries and other
jottings, and, on the other, very slight sketches of the Rhine hills he
was passing through. This, or a similar note-book, was probably ‘the
little book’ he refers to in the Journal on 30 July 1867 and 16 June
1 868. On one occasion at least he wrote up his notes more than a year
after he had made them — i.e. he is writing on 2 February 1870 about
6 December 1868 (see p. 189). Only rarely does the Journal contain
material quite contemporary with the writing of it, and sometimes
(e.g. p. 246) the entries are incomplete because either the notes were
lost or he had forgotten what he was going on to say. It is typical of
his meticulous accuracy that the note recording his conversion should
begin ‘It was this night I believe but possibly the next’ (see p. 146).
After the brief entries of his conversion and decisions about his
vocation, the material is almost entirely non-religious; further
references to religion or religious feeling are rare. Small crosses in
eight entries betw'cen 6 May and 22 July 1866 (see note on p. 135)
probably denote the taking of Holy Communion ; they are all Sun-
days or Holy Days, and Comyn Macfarlane records in his diary that
he, Hopkins and Garrett attended a Communion service together on
Sunday, 22 July, the last of these entries (see LL, iii. 397). Hopkins’s
three known sets of Retreat and Meditation notes are published in
full in Sermons. But ‘rny meditation papers’ (see p. 236) seem to refer
to a more systematic series of such notes: just possibly to the lost
‘spiritual diary’ (see p. xiv).
It is more than likely that some — it is impossible to say how much —
of the original Journal is missing. The MS is in two books, and the
second ends on the last page with an unfinished sentence. That even
these two books have survived together is pure chance. Fr MacLeod,
writing in Letters and Notices, April 1906 (vol. xxviii, p. 392), gave the
following explanation of how the two parts came into his hands when
he was planning to print some extracts :
The first part was sent to us for insertion, with the full approval of Father
Thurston, by Father Darlington, of the Irish University and Province, the
second half comes as a result of an accidental discovery while discussing with
Father O’Donohoc in his room at Manresa the existence of another literary
relic of Father Hopkins which was at that very moment in his possession, and
xxvi
PREFACE
had been received from the late Father John Gretton. The first thought, of
course, on both sides, was to bring the two note-books together, when it was
found that No. i not only distinctly referred to No. 2 as a continuation of
itself, but gave visible proof of the fact by an exact description of the form
and general appearance of each book even to such minute points as the
colour of the back and of the edges of the two.
There has been no trace or memory of later books. It is impossible
to know how long the Journal was continued. There is one hint
among the later MSS that the habit of keeping daily notes was not
altogether dropped even ten years after the end of the second book.
In the Dublin note-book (G. la) is an entry:
\
Cardinal MacCabe died Feb. ii. News of Gordon’s death and taking of
Khartoom about same time
The dynamite explosions when?
Winter in Ireland mild. Snow only in Feb.
Write to young Byrne, Fr. Rickaby, Mr. Patmore, Milicmt
It comes casually among lecture-notes on Roman history at the end
of February 1885. That may well have been the form in which some
of the preliminary notes for the Journal were made; but the Dublin
book contains only one other and no detailed descriptions. Nothinfif
definite is proved by it, and even after the discovert' of the earlier
Journal, we arc left with the feeling that there have been losses and
we shall never know how great.
D. Lecture Notes: Rhetoric
I . Rhythtn oxid the other structuml ports oj" Rhetoric — verse.^ These notes
are evidently not complete and are on undated papers; but it is
possible to date and identify them from other evidence. In a letter to
Bridges, 21 August 1877, Hopkins wrote:*
I do not of course claim to have invented sprmg rhythms but only sprung
rhythm; I mean that single lines and single instances of'it are not uncommon
in English and I have pointed them out in lecturing— e.g. ‘why should this:
desert be?’— which the editors have variously amended; ‘There to meet;
wth Macbeth’ or ‘There to meet with Mac;beth’; Campbell has some
hroughout tl^ Battle of the Baltic— 'and their fleet along the deep: proudly
LI"' and 2 eiWamm— ‘as ye sweep: through the deep’ etc; Moore has
I cannot rewll ; there is one in Grongar Hill; and, not to speak of
Pom pom, m Nursery Rhymes, Weather Saws, and Refrains they are very
common. ' ^
f quotations are made in the notes here printed ;
and in a letter to D.xon dated 5 October 1878, ‘And their fleet along
* LL, i. 45.
PREFACE
xxvii
the deep . . ‘Why should this desert be?’ and ‘Home to his mother’s
house private returned’ are also quoted, besides various nursery
rhymes.*
It seems beyond doubt that these notes were made for the lectures
mentioned to Bridges. From 22 September 1873 3 ^ July 1874
Hopkins was Professor of Rhetoric at Manresa House, Roehampton ;f
and apart from six days’ temporary work at the College at Stony-
hurstj (30 June to 5 July 1873), this was the only teaching he did
between the short time at the Oratory School in 1867 and the date of
the letter to Bridges. The notes, therefore, were almost certainly made
for the lectures at Roehampton.§ ‘Rhetoric’ in Jesuit schools and
colleges is used generally, as ‘Classics’ in others, to cover literary
subjects based on Latin and Greek. It is important to realize that the
stimulus to formulate his thoughts about metre came directly from
the teaching he was officially given to do : the expository form is what
would have been needed for any finished work on the principles of
Sprung Rhythm. The notes form a necessary introduction to the
statement of its principles printed by Bridges as the ‘Author’s Preface’
to the Poems, and clarify much of the metrical explanation in the
published letters.
They have been printed exactly as they stand because, although
they contain a lot of detail not essential to the argument (e.g. the list
of the names of the Greek feet and Latin examples of them), these
details are not easily remembered ; and Hopkins himself sometimes
made mistakes about them.
It will be seen that the beginning of the notes implies some an-
tecedent lectures, possibly on prose; but no notes of these have
survived.
2. The short fragment ^Poetry and verse' is on similar paper to that
on which the other notes are written, and is in similar handwriting:
it was probably part of the same series of lectures.
Among the other papers there are scraps of notes on Greek metre,
and in the Dublin note-book jottings on scansion in Greek and
English, but nothing so far advanced as the work Hopkins speaks of
in the letters, and nothing substantial enough to publish now. A good
deal is missing.li
Apart from his year at Roehampton, Hopkins was teaching and
lecturing every year from September 1882 to his death in 1889, first
♦ZX, ii. 14, 15.
t Sec Journal, p. 236 and note; and LL, i. 30.
i See p. 232.
§ There is a secondary guide to their dating in the fact that in the MS no full-
stops are put at the end of paragraphs. This habit began in the Journal in May
1870. Sec p. 199.
II For the notes on Greek metre sent to Bridges, see p. xii.
xxviii
PREFACE
at Stonyhurst and then at University College, Dublin. Among the
papers are various loose notes — not all on metre — (Appendix I. M)
which may have been used in lectures; the note-book G. I is filled
with notes on the Nicomachean Ethics (? Dublin); G. la — which is
referred to as the ‘Dublin Note-book’ — has scraps of ancient history
notes, an interesting note on Officium, comments on Tacitus Hist, i,
&c.; and G. II is completely taken up with notes on ‘Roman Litera-
ture and Antiquities’ for two sets of lectures, the second dated 1888.
In these he gives now and then a sudden personal turn to what he is
saying, but in general they follow the necessary routine of teaching
without developing any line of argument which would not have been
accepted by any scholar at the time. The finished sets of notes are
beautifully arranged, and written with extreme care about the details
of phrasing, even though the phrasing is bald.
The annotation is a good deal fuller and more detailed than in the
first edition : some readers may even complain that it is too full. Such
complaints are consciously risked, in the belief that Hopkins’s life is
interesting enough to justify elaboration of its context, and limited
enough to make it manageable. It is thought that those who love him
and want to study him carefully will prefer to have many facts or
clues to facts and sources presented here, together with his own
Journals, rather than submit to the necessity of reading a biography
to find them out. With such aims in view an attempt has been made
to write notes more immediately relevant, and more closely interrela-
ted than before. Much new material has made this possible. The
family papers and those of Canon Liddon especially have pro-
vided sudden light at exactly the right point on what was formerly
general, dim or mistaken; other new sources too—such as the Blake
papers at Croydon, the reminiscences of the daughter of Alexander
Wood— have touched places and incidents into life. And sources
which were available before have been explored more thoroughly.
No attempt is made to give general summaries of the biographies of
well-known people like Jowett, Pater, Millais, Swinburne, Christina
Rossetti ; still less of men like Newman and Gladstone who were
nationally public figures when Hopkins mentioned them. With all
these, the notes, though sometimes long, are intended to relate to the
matter immediately in hand. For less familiar people a curriculum vitae
is given when u is known: in these short biographies abbreviations
and a telegraphic style are unsparingly used, as the quickest way of
indicating a person’s standing and fortunes. It is impossible to give
1 1 co,?r“f r" ‘‘“"t ^ twenty-year span can often be shLn
)n a couple of hnes; but such bare facts may come from five or six
PREFACE
XXIX
different sources which would need perhaps three lines for their dis-
play. The biographies of Jesuit colleagues and friends are generally
taken from the obituary articles in Letters and Notices^ the domestic
quarterly of the English Province, occasionally supplemented by the
annual printed lists of appointments in the Society; such notes have
been kindly checked from the same sources by Fr Christopher Devlin,
SJ, and Fr Philip Caraman, SJ; but the Jesuit archives have not
been dug further into to correct or expand what is said in Letters and
J\fotices. Many of the former notes have been completely rewritten and
nearly all have been checked.
There are a few points to be noticed about the way the transcripts
have been made.
1. Hopkins always used a lot of abbreviations. In the two early
diaries they are so frequent (e.g. d = ‘th’ and ‘the’; ^ = ‘and’;
‘of’, &c.) even in the MSS of poems, that it has been absolutely
necessary for the reader’s comfort to lengthen them ; and the principle
of alteration once allowed, it seemed better to apply it also to the
later MSS where simpler abbreviations are still common (e.g. Gk.,
betw., wd., slid., fr., &c.). In this the method of transcription is
different from that adopted by Professor Abbott in his minutely care-
ful edition of Hopkins’s letters.
2. He often compounded words usually hyqihenated or distinct. In
many instances his intention of joining them is unmistakable, but in
many others — especially in the MSS of the Journal — the form of his
handwriting leaves doubt. It seems sometimes as if he deliberately
meant to make a mean between complete unity and complete dis-
tinctness; but this is not certain, and words which could be com-
pounded and in MS are written noticeably closer than the distinct
words surrounding them, are printed in the text as compounds (e.g.
‘sheepflock’, ‘earthline’). In general, though, the handwriting is easy
and delightful to read.
3. Corrections and erasures in the MS are not normally noticed,
but any important adjustments are mentioned in the notes.
4. Where an unimportant w^ord is omitted through a mere slip in
a finished MS it is inserted in the text without comment: serious
omissions are noticed. Omitted words are not inserted in the text of
informal notes.
5. Obvious slips of spelling are silently corrected ; but characteristic
spellings (e.g. ‘cieling’, ‘sycomore’) are retained, and interesting mis-
spellings mentioned in footnotes. Mistakes of Greek accent are kept
in the text, but corrected in the editorial notes.
6. In many instances it is doubtful whether Hopkins intended a
capital or a small letter (particularly with the letters c and m in
such words as ‘church’ and ‘mass’) ; but as his practice was not
XXX
PREFACE
consistent at any period each doubtful letter has been judged on its
merit.
7. Except in the early Diaries the punctuation of the MSS is
extremely careful and clear ; e.g. at one point in the Journal (see p. 1 99
and note) he decides to use no full-stop at the end of a paragraph;
but when later he makes one in forgetfulness he crosses it out again.
The sign / is often used. Hopkins shares this idiosyncrasy with
Coleridge; and House suggested,* on the strength of this and certain
likenesses in descriptive method, that he may possibly have seen the
Coleridge Note-books through his boyhood friendship with Ernest
Hartley Coleridge. There is no positive evidence that he did so; and
we might have expected some comment if he had-f^ut it is worth
mentioning that Hopkins’s only recorded visit to Ernest Hartley’s
home at Hanwell (where the Note-books were then stored) was in
June 1868 (see p. 168); and that his first known use of the oblique
stroke is in Parmenides (see p. 127;, in a note-book where the
date 9 February 1868 occurs earlier. But he may have found it in
medieval editions of Greek texts; or in some of the Early English
Text Society volumes, where its use to show a medial pause is often
retained.
Many of the debts acknowledged by Humphry House in the first
edition remain or have increased. The first dei>t is to the owners of
the copyright of Hopkins’s MSS, the Societv' of Jesus in England. Mr
Gerard Hopkins has continued to give his personal help and advice ;
Mr L. Handley-Derry generously made available his collection of
Hopkins family material, and has answered many queries ; the late
Mr Lionel Hopkins gave many details of his brother’s family life.
Fr M. C. D’Arcy, SJ, gave encouragement when it was most needed.
Fr D. A. Bischoff, SJ, discovered the new Journal and has kindly
solved several problems. Professor Owen Chadwick found the Liddon
Papers at Keble College, Oxford ; and the Warden and Fellows gave
permission for them to be used. Lord Bridges has allowed his father’s
letters to Mrs and Miss Kate Hopkins to be quoted, and generously
lent various papers in his possession. Mr A. L. Korn, of the University
of Hawaii, sent much valuable material about Charles Hopkins and
kindly lent the typescript of his own book about Queen Emma.
Mr John Gilmour, Director of the Botanic Garden, Cambridge, has
generously given up time to writing and checking many of the botani-
cal notes.
Thanks are also due to Professor 1. A. Richards and Mr Brian
* In Coleridge f Hart-DavLs, 1953,
KathIc-CT Coburn, nor Professor Oeorfre Whallev who has
^^dly orresponded on ihu question, has found any evidence from Uie Coleridge
PREFACE
xxxi
Wormald for advice on a problem of editing; to Mr Lance Sieveking
for kindly sending a chapter of The Eye of the Beholder (including two
new letters from Hopkins to his father) before publication; to Mr
John Bryson, Fellow and Librarian of Balliol College, and Mr V.
Quinn, Assistant Librarian, for their help on particular points; to
Mr T. N. Fox, of Highgate School, and to Mr Roger Highfield,
Librarian of Merton College, for answering queries. The book owes
much, in addition, to help and information kindly given by: Mr
R. W. Allston, Curator of the Watts Gallery, Compton; Mr W. S.
Barrett, Librarian of Keble College; Mgr Barton; the Abbot and
Guestmaster of Belmont Abbey, Hereford, and the Revd J. Oakley,
OSB; the Superior of the Birmingham Oratory and Frs Warmsley
and MacCarthy; Mrs M. Bosanquet; Fr F. Courtney, SJ, Librarian
of Heythrop College; Fr J. H. Crehan, SJ; Mr H. J. Davis; Mr
Bryan Elliott; Professor E. M. M. Goriely-Taylor; the Curator of
Leighton House; Lt-Col. A. Macfarlane-Grieve ; Mr G. M. Macfar-
lane-Grieve; the Partners of Manley Hopkins, Son & Cookes; Mr
H. Mackworth Paul ; the Principal of Pusey House, Oxford, and the
Revd T. M. Parker, former Librarian; the Poor Clares, Notting
Hill ; Lord Rothschild ; Mr Clifford Smith ; the Sisters of St Augus-
tine’s Priory, Newton Abbot; tlie Librarian of St Mary of the
Angels, Bayswater; Professor Constantine Trypanis; the Vergers of
St Peter’s, Croydon and St Saviour’s, Paddington; the Revd Illtyd
Trethowan, OSB; Miss Frances Woodward.
The staffs of the following libraries have helped to solve various
problems: the Bodleian (especially Dr Richard Hunt); the British
Museum (especially Mr Angus Wilson and Mr John Gere) ; Cam-
bridge University Library; Lamport Hall (Northants. Record
Society); the Scott Polar Research Institute, Cambridge; and the
Public Libraries of Bristol, Croydon, Exeter, Hampstead, Newport
(Salop), and West Ham. The work of tracing the pictures which
Hopkins noted in his Journal was much assisted by the staffs of the
following museums and galleries: the Ashmolean, Oxford (especially
Mr John Woodward) ; Birmingham City Art Gallery (especially Dr
Mary Woodall) ; the Fitzwilliam Museum, Cambridge (especially
Mr Leonard Holder); Manchester City Art Gallery; the National
Maritime Museum, Greenwich; the Soane Museum (especially Sir
John Summerson) ; Temple Newsam House, Leeds; and the Victoria
and Albert Museum (especially Mr P. C. Floud and Mr B. W.
Robinson).
The notes show extensive obligations to published work on every
page — especially to the third edition of Hopkins’s Poerns, edited by
Professor Gardner; and to the three volumes of LetterSy edited by
Professor Abbott.
XXXll
PREFACE
Hopkins s sketches are reproduced by kind permission of their
owners, the Society of Jesus, LadyPooley, and Mr L. Handley-^Derry.
The frontispiece, found by Mr V. Quinn, is a much enlarged repro-
duction from a group of twenty Ba\\io\ men, whose dates of admission
range from 1859 to 1863 : perhaps a College Society. It is reproduced
by kind permission of the Master and Fellows of Balliol College. Miss
Rachel House prepared the maps.
My own more personal obligations are, first and foremost, to Mrs
Madeline House, who has given me valuable and constant help with
both text and notes, and has checked the proofs; to Fr Christopher
Devlin, SJ, who arranged all House's Hopkins papers on his death
and made many useful suggestions; to Fr Philip Cai^man, SJ, for a
great deal of personal help and advice and for reading the proofs; to
Fr T. C. Corbishley, SJ, for hospitality at Campion Hall and help
with the MSS, which he made always available; and not least to Mr
Rupert Hart-Davis, who has interpreted his duties as House’s literary
executor as generously here as elsewhere, solved many practical
problems and been a constant source of encouragement. Mr James
Thornton has again done invaluable work on the indexes, and
his careful checking has led to several gaps in the notes being filled.
Appendixes I to III are themselves the best acknowledgements to the
work of Mr John Piper, Dr John Stevens, and Mr Alan Ward.
GRAHAM STOREY
TRINITY HALL, CAMBRIDGE
June ig^S
ABBREVIATIONS
The following arc the chief abbreviations used in the Preface and "Notes:
Bodl. MSS
Fam. Papers
Gardner, i and ii
LCH
Liddon Papers
Life
LL, i
LLj ii
LL, iii
Further Letters [1938]
[1937]
Poems
RB
Sermons
Hopkins MSS in the Bodleian.
Hopkins Family MSS in the possession of Mr L. Handley-
Derry.
W. H. Gardner, Gerard Mardey Hopkins, 2 vols., 1944
Jf949-
Lionel Charles Hopkins.
The Papers of Canon H. P. Liddon in Keble College, Oxford.
Gerard Manley Hopkins, by G. F. Lahey, SJ, 1930.
The Letters of Gerard Manley Hopkins to Robert Bridges, edited
by Claude Colleer Abbott, 1935 (new impression 1955).
The Correspondence of Gerard Manley Hopkins with Richard
Watson Dixon, edited by Claude Colleer Abbott, 1935 (new
impression 1955).
Further Letters of Gerard Manley Hopkins including his Cor-
respondence with Coventry Patmore, edited by Claude Colleer
Abbott, 2nd edition 1956.
I St edition of above, 1938.
The Note-Books and Papers of Gerard Manley Hopkins, edited by
Humphry House, 1937.
Poems of Gerard Manley Hopkins, edited by Robert Bridges,
3rd edition by W. H. Gardner, fifth impression (with
additional poems), 1956.
Robert Bridges.
The Sermons and Devotional Writings of Gerard Manley Hopkins,
edited by Chrbtopher Devlin, SJ, 1959.
EARLY NOTE-BOOKS
NOTE
Superior figures in the text refer to the notes at the end of the book
{pp. 2 gg~ 4 ^i) . Superior figures in square brackets refer to philological
notes {appendix III, pp. 4gg-g2^).
Footnotes in roman type are Hopkins's; footnotes in italic are
editorial. \
EARLY DIARIES
1862^
April 13. (Sunday,) After prayers Alexander Strachey* came up to
the bedroom at my request to have a last talk at the end of the
quarter. I had found out from Clarke^ who had walked to Finchley
with him the day before that on Clarke making some mention of me
as ‘your friend Skin,’ he said, ‘He is not my friend.’ ‘Oh yes he is’
said Clarke, and afterwards asked why he went no walks with me.
‘Because he never asks me’ said Strachey. Not wishing to compromise
Clarke, I first asked him the same question, to which he gave at once
the same ungrateful answer. Being thus master of the situation, I told
him that I had not expected so ungrateful an answer. He knew, I said,
the reason ; at least he might have appreciated the sacrifice ; that he
had not spoken except on the most trivial subjects and on some days
not even that, that he had taken no notice of me, and that I had been
wretched every time I saw or thought of it, it was only what I had
bargained for, I sowed what I now reaped ; but after this sacrifice to be
told he did not walk with me because I never asked him was too much.
I put a parallel case to him; 1 told him that he might find many
friends more liberal than I had been but few indeed who would make
the same sacrifice I had ; but I could not get him to see it : after I had
said all, the others came up to bed. I asked him if he had anything to
say. He objected that the others had come up to interrupt it. ‘But
should you have anything if they had not?’ I asked, ‘No, I don’t
think so’ he said with a cool smile, and I left him. Perhaps in my next
friendship I may be wiser.
4
EARLY DIARIES (1863)
September 24. 1863
growth,' anything growing vigorously, blooming it may be,
but yet producing fruit. Hence in the sense of meadow, or
meadow, mean a field of fresh vegetation. Mead the drink and meat,
(active forms from the same root,) are so called from strengthening,
nourishing. For maid compare the parallel resemblance between virgo
and virga. Gf. ‘our sons shall grow up as young
The various lights under which a horn may be looked at have given
rise to a vast number of words in language. It may be regarded as a
projection, a climax, a badge of strength, power or vigour, a tapering
body, a spiral, a wavy object, a bow, a vessel to hold withal or to drink
from, a smooth hard material not brittle, stony, metallic or wooden,
something sprouting up, something to thrust or push with, a sign of
honour or pride, an instrument of music, etc. From the shape, kernel
and granum, grain, com^. From the curve of a horn, "^Kopcovi^, corona,
crown. From the spiral crinu, meaning ringlets, locks. From its being
the highest point comes our crown perhaps, in the sense of the top of
the head, and the Greek Ke'pag, horn, and Kcipa, head, were evidently
identical ; then for its sprouting up and growing, compare keren, cornu,
Kepas, horn with grow, cresco, grandis, grass, great, groot. For its curving,
curvus is probably from the root horn in one of its forms. Kopwvrj in
Greek and corvus, comix in Latin and crow (perhaps also raven, which
may have been craven originally) in English bear a striking resemblance
to cornu, curvus. So also yepavos, crane, heron, herne. Why these birds
should derive their names from horn I cannot presume to say. The tree
cornel, Latin comus is said to derive its name from the hard horn-like
nature of its wood, and the corns of the foot perhaps for the same reason.
Comer is so called from its shape, indeed the Latin is cornu. Possibly
(though this is rather ingenious than likely, I think) grin may mean to
curve up the ends of the mouth like horns. Mountains are called horn
in Switzerland ; now we know from Servius^ that herna meant saxum
whence the Hern id, Rock-men, derive their name ; hema is a horn-like
crag, epvos, a shoot, is so called from its horn-like growth. Curiously
enough the expression Kcpdajv epvos occurs in Oppian,^ and another
word, epvv^, in the Poetics of Aristotle.® Or it is possible that ipvos may
be so called from its shooting up as, not in the shape of, a horn.
Expressions. He hath raised up a horn of salvation for us.
• Kopoivis is the name for the flourish at the end of a book, and also for the mark
over a crasis, shaped thus 5.
5
EARLY DIARIES (1863)
Lays and Ballads^ from English, Scottish etc History, by S.M. (Miss
Smedley.) i2mo, cloth, 2s. 6d.
Manzoni’s I Promessi Sposi,^ Translated (probably by Miss Smedley.)
Two handsome vols., small 8vo, fancy covers, 60 beautiful Vignettes,
7s. (published at los. 6d.) Lumley, 126, Holborn.
Westley, Promenade, Cheltenham is the man who makes the draw-
ing books.
Fash.^*^ Don’t fash yourself. Scotch. Connected with fessus,fatiscor,
JV before a consonant often dropped. Lingere —
lick, Xclx^iv. Tangere — touchy tactus. Fingere—Jictus. Aayxdveiv — Xaxctv.
Pangere — pactus etc, etc.
See hom above. On the other hand the derivation of granun^^^, grain
may be referred to the head
Grinds gride ^ gird, grii^ g^oat^ Kpoveiv^ crush ^ crash^ Kporetp
etc.
Original meaning to strike^ ruby particularly together. That which is
produced by such means is the grity the groats or crumbs, like /ra-
gmentum from frangere, bit from bite. Crumby crumble perhaps akin. To
greet, to strike the hands together(?). Greet, grief, wesiring, tribulation.
Chief possibly connected. Gruff, with a sound as of two things rubbing
together. I believe these words to be onomatopoetic.^ Gr common to
them all representing a particular sound. In fact I think the onomato-
poetic theory has not had a fair chance. Cf. Crack^'^\ creak, croak,
crake, graculus, crackle. These must be onomatopoetic.
Crook^^\ crank, kranke, crick, cranky. Original meaning crooked, not
straight or right, wrong, awry. A crank in England is a piece of
mechanism which turns a wheel or shaft at one end, at the other
receiving a rectilinear force. Knife-grinders, velocipedes, steam-
engines etc have them. Crick in the neck is when some muscle, tendon
or something of that sort in the neck is twisted or goes wrong in some
way.
[Here is a small drawing of a wheel and crank, not reproduced.^
Cranky, provincial, out of sorts, WTong. The original meaning being
crooked, cf. curvus and for derivation see under hom.
6 EARLY DIARIES (1863)
the legend of the rape of the scout
Related in the Manner of Arnold and LiddelP
[This legend bears a close resemblance to that of The Rape of
Lucrece, with which it no doubt had an identical origm. It is
curious, however, that while in the Latin legend it is the people
of Rome who besiege the Volscian town, in the English the
people of Ballioli (a name with which cf. Corioli etc.) ‘sit down
at the Room of Woolcombe’ (Romam Volsoom). But see
hereafter.]
It chanced that once while the younger men of Ballioli were sitting
over their wine, being already, so runs the tale, heated with their cups,
the discussion ran high on the respective excellences of their several
scouts,* each gentleman maintaining that the good fellow who served
him, surpassed all others. Then, quoth one, what. Sirs, if we put our
scouts to the proof. Let us plot to surprise them when they wot not we
are near, and he whose serf is found most trusty he shall win the mead
of glory and his catechetics shall be written for him for the term. And
to this they agreed. So when they were sitting down at the Room of
Woolcombe,t and were now tired with the length of the siege,+
feigning a sudden message from the Master of the Horse, they got
suddenly on foot and came to their rooms. Then one scout was found
♦ Scout. The word in the Legenda Oxoniana is used as =* scr\'ant, slave. It is not,
however, found in ancient English, in any other place, in this sense, but rncaiu
outcast. (See, however, Lilius Gandens* De Arte Cric. sub vo. scout.) Some derive it
from oK€voil>6pos (v. Aristoph, Frogs^ 15) aK€vr)d>op(cj, uKevr). But the real sense
first established in Miiddlcr’s Scotians. That writer show’s that a large part of the
population of Ballioli was Scottish. This is proved by the frequent recurrence of
Scotch names in the Legends, and the fact that the Eponymous hero of the college
(John Balliol) is called a Scotchman. He believes that the original population w’as
Scotch, but that it was reduced to subjection by the arrival of the English, and the
Scots became slaves or attendants of the conquerors. Hence the name Scot or Scout
became synonymous for servant, as Geta was a common name for a slave at Rome,
and slave comes from the Slavonians or slaves, and Brutus an old word for a runaway
slave from the Bruttii. This view is ably combated by Madler in his excursus on the
subject. He shows incon trover tibly that the Scots in Ballioli were (as everywhere)
the dominant element, and that at the time when the events of the legend were
supposed to take place Robert the Scot is alleged to have held the chief magistracy.*
He asserts that Scout must be compared with scuttle — one who attends to the coals
etc. Piizler compares it with to scuttle, skulk, skunk. At some public schoob he says
the fags were called skunks. Doltz in his Animadversions against PUzler compares it
with scathe, scot-ircc, so tliat it means a maimed or ill-used wretch. Muner and
Muller in their Lexicon Anglo-Neo Z^landicum make it from scutiger, scuti/efy armour-
bearer. In fact as the great Bcntleius long ago remarked, the whole subject is
wrapped in okotos.
t The Mcdiccan reads ‘the Room of Woolks’.** But omn. cod. hab. the Room, the
critical editors omit the, and understand Romam Volsc 6 m or Rome of Voices, which is
another form of Volscians, as in Shakspere, ‘flattered the Voices in Corioli*.
{ Siege, it should be remembered = both seat and beleaguerment.
7
EARLY DIARIES (1863)
making away with coffee-cups that his master might get more of
Hopkins, and he have a percentage, and other was decanting port in
such wise that the decanter was but one third full, and another, who
was a clerk, was reading Bohn’s literal translations of the poet Ovid
Naso’s Art of Love on his master’s shelves, and another used his
master’s tooth-brush and yet another was idling his time in unseemly
dalliance with the washer-woman, and yet one more was quarrelling
with his wife whether it were safe to take the fifth pot of Apricot
Marmalade. But only one was found faithful, for he was not in the
rooms at all but all things were set forth and he was within call, and
the young gentlemen straightway adjudged that he had the prize
whose scout was not in, yet within call, and he being a Exhibitioner
they had him excused from paying for the Cumaean party. Now one
of the young gentlemen was seized with a guilty desire to have that
trusty scout upon his own staircase. So one day when as it chanced his
master was out he went to his rooms and having there found the good
scout tried him first with persuasions that he should leave that stair-
case and come to his. And thus* he said thou mayest contrive it. Say
that the work on this stair is too much for thee and pray to be allowed
to exchange with the scout on mine. Say to him the pay of the gende-
men is good and thou mayest freely steal no man forbidding, but the
work is hard ; now on thine both the pay and the work is light. And
when he constantly refused, he said So be it then, and I will tell thy
master that I have found out that thou hast agreed for a piece of gold
to cut thy master’s sofas in order that so the valuation may be less and
he that cometh after may gain the advantage and for this he pays thee.
So he was compelled and did as he was commanded, and was greatly
distressed and wrote a letter to his master which he left on his table
praying for revenge and that he would have pity on his family, and
then, as the manner of scouts is, went to Gurney’s^ old rooms and there
hanged himself. When these things were known there was great in-
dignation in Ballioli and they drave out the wicked man, and he went
to the Alban Hall,*^ and stirred up the minor colleges against Ballioli.
Such is the legend.
See grind etc,
Grando^'^ meaning splinters, fragments, little pieces detached in
grinding,^ hence applied to hail,
Grunt ^^^ : cf. this with gruff.
pes (ped-is)^ ttovs {7Toh-6<s)^ pada^ pad, pat etc.
Origin onomatopoetic, describing sound of foot-fall. Foot-pad, only
one meaning in both parts of composition.
♦ So the MSS. But the Alban Hill should probably be read.
8
EARLY DIARIES (1863)
Macbethi*^, Act V, Sc. V. Till famine cling thee. There is a North
Country word clam or clem^ meaning starve ; and there was at the time
of the battle of Bosworth field a prophet, I think in Norfolk or Suffolk,
who prophesied, or rather described in idiotic ramblings, the result of
the battle. He was heard to say ‘Now Dick! now Harry! run Dick!
run Harry I Harry has the day’. Which was interpreted of Richard III
and Henry Duke of Lancaster, at that time, it was said, engaged in the
battle. Being brought to see the king, Henry VII called him an ideot
knave but appointed him a maintenance in the kitchen; Being disliked
by the servants he probably feared for his life and said he should be
clammed to death, which did happen. This was the first time I met the
word which was much used in the time of the Lancashiric famine. The
connexion between clam and clammy seemed accidental or not easily
explained, if real, till I saw the above line of Shakspeare, there being
evidently the same connexion between the two senses of cling as be-
tween clam and clammy (The words are probably distantly akin to
claudere^ close^ kXcIs, clasp, etc, and cleave. The original idea that of
closing, or fastening together, having attached many terminations and
inflexions to itself.) In the two above words the notion seems to be that
of closing the throat with inanition, throttling etc. Wonder whether
was originally xAt/ids-. Its older form, I see, is Aci/xd?. Llmus may
be connected very probably with clammy, slime, and lime. Slum probably
connected with slime.
Note also that the family of words mentioned above, viz. claudo^^\
kXcis etc are connected with lig-o to bind, whence come limes, limen,
perhaps limus, an apron, tie.
Eustace Rivington', 58, Harley St. W.
Note on water coming through a lock.®
There are openings near the bottom of the gates (which allow the
water to pass through at all times, I suppose.) Supf>ose three, as there
often are. The water strikes through these with great force and extends
Itself into three fans. The direction of the water is a little oblique from
t e orizontal, but the great force with which it runs keeps it almost
uncurved except at the edges. The end of these fans is not seen for they
stn e them under a mass of yellowish boiling foam which runs down
between the fans, and meeting covers the whole space of the lock-
entrance. emg heaped up in globes and bosses and round masses the
ans disapjpear under it. This turpid mass smooths itself as the distance
which? basin into
the hanks it strikes them and the confusion of
the already folded and doubled lines of foam is worse confounded.
9
EARLY DIARIES (1863)
The wind, that passes by so fleet,
Runs his fingers through the wheat,
And leaves the blades, where’er he will veer.
Tingling between dusk and silver.^
slippery slop, slabby (muddy), slidcy perhaps slope, but if slope
is thus connected what are we to say of slant ?
Tt was nuts to him’^^l German nutz, use, profit. This was told me
by Baillie.^ The word is obsolete in its uncompounded form, except in
one phrase.
Earwig^^\ I had imagined this word might be same as German
erwUrger, throttler, but I find the German for earwig is ohrwurm, i.e.
ear-worm, which would shew the syllabic ear to be not a particle but
the same as the word ear. It is said that ear-wig should be carwing,
the wing cases resembling ears. This is not likely I think. As far as I
know to give one a wigging^^^ means a shaking and is probably con-
nected with wag, waggle, perhaps weak (shaky).
‘Purpurea^ intexti tollant aulaca Britanni.’ translated by Reiss, ^
Dec. 1863, How the Britons clad in purple strike up the flute.
Amcotts.® Hackthorn Hall, Lincoln.
Mem. Maps to be taiken up to Oxford and coloured sketch by Clara
Lane.^
Portraits of Raphael, Tennyson, Shelley, Keats, Shakspere — Milton,
Dante, Albrecht Diirer,
Mrs. Chappie.’ 169 Chester St. (or perhaps Rd), Birkenhead.
Twelfth Night. Act I, Sc. III.
Sir Toby. My niece . . .
Maria. . . . Your cousin.
‘Cousin’ is used for ‘niece’.
Sc. I. — So full of shapes is fancy,
That it alone is high-fantastical.
Why alone?
How will she love, . . .
. . , when liver, brain, and heart,
Those sovereign thrones, are all supplied, and fill d,
(Her sweet perfections,) with one self king!
10
EARLY DIARIES (1863)
Meaning? Knight says her loving or marrying will fill them with
one lord, and this will constitute her perfection, comparing Froissart,
a woman being not complete till married. This I do not believe.*
III. ‘As tall a man as any’s in Illyria.’ is here said to = stout —
bold. So the American use of the word seems to have developed from
some such use as this. — ‘Gust’^^1, taste, cf. gusto. Derived straight from
Latin gustus, not from French gout (earlier however goust).
— ‘Subtractors’, detractors. — ‘Coystril’, what? — ‘What wench? —
Castiliano-vulgo ; for here comes Sir Andrew Ague-cheek’. Meaning?
— Sir A.A.’s name applies to the tremulous fat of his cheeks, hanging
down and shaking with his motions. Sir Toby Belch may be noticed as
English equivalent for such Greek names as BScXvkXcwv etc.
For Castiliano-vulgo Malone (or Steevens) reads Casliliano volto ^ —
put on a Castilian, Spanish, grave face. — The Spaniards being dis-
tinguished for their grave dignity — and for their courtesy which would
suit the drift of the passage as well : — Be on your best behaxdour. But
how is this got out of the words?
Above, for ‘perfections’ Knight would read ‘perfection’. But I
believe the meaning to be that ‘liver, brain, and heart’ are the parts
of the body in which all the qualities of the mind and soul reside. They
make up the whole immaterial part of man, they are his ‘perfections’.
However Knight’s explanation is perhaps good. Query. How far is the
classical view of the functions of the liver to be found in Elizabethan
poetry. It is in English poetry generally allowed to be the seat of envv,
I think.t^J
It was Dr Dyne,^ I think, who suggested an ingenious, I do not
think It can be new, explanation of premises He said it arose from a
mistaken reading of Latin legal documents where, in treating of the
sale etc of houses, estates etc, instead of specifying the subject of the
document repeatedly the word praemissa~thc said, the aforesaid—
was used, and translated into the English premisses (as used in Logic)
m same sense as m Latin, but which has since been spelt premises and
lost Its meaning.
Dnm\ trills thrill, nostril, nese-thirl (Wiclif etc.)
down^^w ^ v piercing. To drill, in sense of discipline, is to wear
inscription on fount, reading b
NIWN ANOMHMA, MH MONAN Opil
(Jeremy Taylor) —
11
EARLY DIARIES (1863)
TriraXov, *fi/C€ovov WraAa, springs. Pindar Fragments, 220.
miraXa Trvplva} the stars, for which cf. ‘see how the floor of heaven
Is thick inlaid with patines of bright gold*. Merchant of Venice, I should
like to sec how this occurs for it is given as Plutarch’s— II, 889 a.
whatever that reference may mean ; or is ‘Plut.’ for Aristophanes’
PlutuSy or a misprint for ‘Plat.’ (Plato) ? It is not to be found in 889
of the Plutus and that play, it says in Liddell and Scott’s list of abbre-
viations, is indicated by ‘Ar. Plut.’
Query. Connection between lather and lavo^ Xovo) ?
Flick^^\ fillip, flip, fleck, flake.
Flick means to touch or strike lightly as with the end of a whip, a
finger etc. To fleck is the next tone above flick, still meaning to touch
or strike lightly (and leave a mark of the touch or stroke) but in a
broader less slight manner. Hence substantively a fleck is a piece of
light, colour, substance etc. looking as though shaped or produced by
such touches. Flake is a broad and decided fleck, a thin plate of some-
thing, the tone above it. Their connection is more clearly seen in the
applications of the words to natural objects than in explanations. It
would seem that fillip generally pronounced flip is a variation of flick,
which however seems connected with fly, flee, flit, meaning to make fly
off. Key to meaning of flick, fleck and flake is that of striking or cutting
off the surface of a thing ; in flick (as to flick off a fly) something little
or light from the surface, while flake is a thin scale of surface. Flay is
therefore connected, perhaps flitch.
No great difference can be shewn, in spite of the purists, to exist
between the verbs to fly and to flee. Originally they were just the same,
but there is a difference in their inflexions. Fly and flee are both used
as ^fug^ere, but flew is the past of fly {voUare), fled of flee {fug-ere),
flown the participle of fly {vol-are),fled office {fug-ere.) Flee ^ndfly have
only the difference of pronunciation which would be between English
and Lowland Scotch. Flit, vol-are, volit-are, fleet, to fleet, flight, flutter,
flitter, etc. are variations.
Fluster^^^ variation of flutter. Flatter probably to fan wdth applause,
to flutter up — or else to inflate, blow out.
Original connection with flow^^\ blow, flare, flamma, ^Xo^,fluere, flere,
rrXtlv, float, flute {wind instrument), plavdmi, etc.
Flag^^\ (droop etc), flaccere, notion that of waving instead of rigid-
ity, flowing (as we say of drapery). Hence flag the substantive.
Fledge^^^ to furnish with wings with which compBit fly, fled etc above.
12
EARLY DIARIES (1863)
With flip cf, flap, flob.
Cf. the connectionl^J between flag and flabby with that between
flick and flip^flog axid flap, flop.
The meaning of hemshaid^^ is disputed about. It is variously said to
mean sham heron, heronry and heron, the latter probably being the
sense in T know a hawk from a hernshaw’, but there is no doubt that
show is sometimes added to words in sense of sham with which it
probably is connected. The meaning may have been concealment,
cover, pretence, shield etc. from original sense of shadc^ Hence hem-
shaw may also mean a heronry, a herons’ shelter, shade, cover. Shaw
in old English means shade of trees, cover, underwood etc. With it are
connected shadow, shade, shed, shelter, shield,
I do not believe school^^^ is from schola viz. crxoX'q, but the Teuton
word meaning assemblage, collection, as shoal, a school of whales shell
(in a school of a form).
scum, squama, scale, keel, (i.e. skeel) — squama and scale being
the topmost flake what may be skimmed from surface of a thing.
Hollow^^\ hull (of ships and plants), kolXo<s, skull (as Ke^aXy] and
caput that which holds, contains), hole, hold, etc. Hell, I believe both
caelum^’^^ and caena or cena to be from koIXov and koiv^,
Skip^^^, escape,
Revd. Edwin Palmer,* 12, Southwood Lane, Highgate.
Hale^^^ (seize), haul.
Hold, hilt. Halt (lame) = held as captus octdis etc. ? ?
Heal, hale.
Shea 7 ^^^\ shred, potsherd, shard,
ploughshare that which divides the soil. Share probably = divide.
Shrad also, which is same as shred.
Shire, a division of land ? Shore, where the land is cut by the water?
Shower, cf. shred, a fall of water in little shreds or divisions ? Short,
cut off, curtailed.
*3
EARLY DIARIES (1863)
In Attid*^ XtTpov TrXevfiiov are for vlrpov Tirevpatv, Liddell and Scott cf.
Xvyrj and wf. In Doric tJA^ov ^tAraroff arc ‘^6ov <l>ivraros* So no doubt
^€vpa is for nXevfia connected with 7tX€lv, flare, blow, to which words
above add pluma that with which birds fly.
Flos^^\ flower, blow, bloom, blossom. Original meaning to be inflated,
to swell as the bud does into the flower. Also <l)X€w (abundo) and flaw
[%xovm), flare (English not Latin).
[Drawing of window given Fig. 7 .]
Note. There is now going on what has no parallel that I know of in
history of art. Byzantine or Romanesque Architecture started from
ruins of Roman, became itself beautiful style, and died, as Ruskin
says, only in giving birth to another more beautiful than itself, Gothic.
The Renaissance appears now to be in the process of being succeeded
by a spontaneous Byzantinesque style, retaining still some of bad
features (such as pilasters, rustic-work etc) of the Renaissance. These
it will throw aside. Its capitals are already, as in Romanesque art,
most beautiful. Whether then modern Gothic or this spontaneous
style conquer does not so much matter, for it is only natural for latter
to lead to a modern spontaneous Gothic, as in middle ages, only that
the latter is putting off' what we might be or rather are doing now. Or
the two may coalesce.
raAa*^J (yaXaKTos), yXayos, lac {lactis), leglin (pail), milk, i.e. mlik.
Neatherd = cowherd. Neats^ feet = or something like calves’ feet,
ox-foot. NeaVs leather, oxhide or cow-hide.
Derivation and original meaning of neat ?
Naus (S)l^^, vau?, navis, vim, no, newt(?).
in Macmillan’s careful reprint of Bacon’s essay written
then, while then in old ballads etc written than. Words identical. T had
rather die than do it’ = T had rather die, then, next after that I
would do it.’ Nor as ‘better nor that’ is old English, for ne were and is
written in old ballads etc sometimes nar.
[Drawing of window marked ^Kirkham Abbey, Yorkshire^ given Fig. ^,]
*4
EARLY DIARIES (1863-4)
[Drawing given Fig. ^.]
Norman Stairs, Canterbury Cathedral, The same arrangement of
arches and pillars I have seen in a modern building, unconscious
repetition of form. See therefore 54*. The doorway and stairs in which
above piece occurs are unique.
Transoms in Decorated and Early English. In former not infre-
quently found for the purpose which they were intended to answer,
before they became in Perpendicular only ornamental, vij:. to give
strength to mullions of tall windows. So also in Decorated where
they are quite common in domestic architecture, but very rare in
ecclesiastical. The Glossary mentions two examples. In long windows
however as in towers (e.g. S. Mary’s, Oxford) they are not uncommon.
Their evidently deliberate rejection in ordinarily proportioned win-
dows by the Decorated architects ought to be decisive against them.
[Drawing of window given Fig. ^.]
Decorated transom in domestic architecture. Archl)ishop’s palace,
Mayfield, Sussex from Photograph by Uncle George.*
[Drawing of window given Fig. j.j
Whitby Abbey. I have not seen any parallel to this kind of tracery in
French or Italian Gothic. The style did not last long I think and seems
to me to have been more capable of grand development than any other.
The bars split at the ends, which connect the bights or recesses of the
fom-sided openings with other parts of the tracery are at a distance
and in effect straight and yet harmonize completely. This is the only
successful nunner of introducing them in Decorated windows that I
Imow, for those in early geometrical are poor and the instance in
Merton chou' erected in finest style and in company with other
wmdows of exquisite tracery is quite unworthy of the others and a
photograph by Uncle George. There was probably no circle or other
"’‘’““"S* ■ “■ Siven-
[Drmvwg given Fig. d'.]
Wes^or, Ely Cathedral. Very incorrect.
Names of Yorkshire rivers* taken from CorrAill for Jan 1864
Aire Britoh and Gaelic-Rapid stream. *
Galder. British Erse — ^Woody water.
* MS page on uAich space Uftfor drawing-not done.
*5
EARLY DIARIES (1864)
Douglas. British — ^Blue water.
Eden. British — Gliding stream.
Humber. Gaelic — Confluence of two waters.
Ribble. British — ^Tumultuous.
Dun. British Erse — Dusky.
Derwent. British — Fair water.
Dove. British Erse — Black.
Greta. British — Swift.
Nid. British — ^That whirls.
Wharfe. Gaelic British — Rough.
in one or more of the Celt languages is black, — Gaelic e.g,
Donuil Dhu — Donuil the Black. In above names it enters into Dun and
Dove, perhaps Douglas^ Dou- being bluCy originally black. But perhaps
-glas is blue, and we may compare glastum or glassum or glessum, Latin
— or rather probably Latinizing of native word — for the blue-dye pro-
ducing plant, woad. Humber I always supposed to be from the Cymry,
Wharfe and rough {hrough originally) are identical. Dun^ dusky, dull
probably from or connected with dhu, perhaps taxmy, Ribble perhaps
connected with revel, rave. Went, Guend (Guendolen), Guin (Guinevere)
mean white or fair, Arar like Gung-gung (Ganges) means literally
flow-flow — ar-ar, Aire, Ar etc. from ri etc etc to run, flow, go.
Dujfer^^^ in Cumberland means ass (literally) ; in slang parlance
metaphorical.
Lazy^ lassus?
Clarty, North Country = sticky. See pp. 33, 35, 36*. Clay perhaps
may have same root from its clanuny clinging nature.
‘Virginibus’ puerisque canto’.
I sing to the virginals and hautboys.
Hawk^^\ is sell about the streets. I had imagined this to be derived from
the bawling or screeching the hawkers made in proclaiming their
wares, to hawk meaning to make a noise in the throat, as before spit-
ting. But Kingsley uses a word to hawk of birds in sense of to move up
and down in a place, to haunt. The above sense may be derived from
this. He also uses a verb to howk in sense of to harry and with this per-
haps is connected the bird hawk.
• MS pages on which comes note on Macbeth, V, v. See p, 8,
,6 EARLY DIARIES (1864)
In Isle of Wight dialect to is to harry, annoy, and Shakspere
has gallow in same sense.
Spuere^^^, spit, spuma, spume, spoom, spawn, spittle, spatter, spot, sputter.
Mucus, muck.
Almost all, probably all, slang is the application of a term in a meta-
phorical or whimsical sense, or adoption of a provincial oitife, excepting
indeed words like chouse^^K
Twelfth Night Act II, Sc. II.
‘O pregnant enemy’.
‘Disguise, I see, thou art a wickedness, wherein the pregnant enemy
does much’. Chalmers says* ‘i.e. enemy of mankind’, emphasising
pregnant. Of course it means the devil but if he draws any meaning of
this kind from the word itself he is wrong. The meaning must be
Disguise is a wicked thing in which crime is conceived (pregnant) and
brought to birth by the devil’s means, i.e. brought to commission.
‘How will this fadge?’^ ‘To fadge is to suit, to fit.' Chalmers.
To fond on,^ to be fond of, to dote on.
Monday. Odyssey, Riddell ii. R.R.^ Virgil. Palmer 12. P.R.
Tuesday. Jowett. 8.30 a.m. Repetition. Woolcombe. Gospel of
S. John. II. Palmer Demosthenes 12 R.R. Jowett. Ajax. i. Hall.
Wednesday. Palmer. Virgil. 12. P.R. Riddell. Odyssey, ii. R.R.
Robinson Ellis. 9 p.m. Compo.
Thursday. Woolcombe. ii. Palmer. Demosthenes. 12. J.R, Jowett.
Ajax. Hall.
Friday. Riddell. Odyssey. 1 1 R.R. Palmer. Virgil. 12. J.R. or Hall.
Dr. Pusey’s lectures* on Thursdays 8 o’clock, beginning on Feb. 4.
Dine with Madan^ on Wednesday, Chapel, 5, Hall 5.30, with
Skrine.^ — Breakfast with Baillie same day. — Have a breakfast® on
Saturday to which have asked Anderson,’ Lovell,’ and Anson,*®
Parayicini,**(Willert,*2 Bailward*^)Amcotts, and(Lyall,*^ Muirhcad**),
Baillie? or Macfarlane?*® — Breakfast with Bond*^ on Tuesday, with
Paravicini and Baillie.
Mem. To write to Greening, Uncle Edward,*® Karslake,*’ Fanny
Brady, Mary Beechey,^’Man who asked for votes, Mamma for trousers.
EARLY DIARIES (1864) 17
Baillie’s wine and tea.
Essay. Florentissimae nostris temporibus Europae urbes situ, aedi-
ficiis, opere, magnitudine, inter se in epistola comparantur.
NeKvias Homcricae (Odyss. XI) cum Virgiliana (Aen. VI) com-
paratio.
[Drawing given Fig, 7.]
Carving on band running round head of west door, IfHey Church.
Jan. 28. 1864.
Jan. 27. Two swans flew high up over the river on which I was,
their necks stretched straight out and wings billowing.
Mem. Arthur’s* photograph for Macfarlane.
Id nos Latine gloriosum dicimus.
Pondus illae mecum
Mamma^ said in a letter she was glad I had decided not to join the
B.H.T.,^ if afterwards I saw reason to enter it, I might do so, for I
should have had time to weigh it well.
Cornhill. Xanadu.^
Locke uses pudder and opiniatrety^
Sketches. Fir-grove on top of Hill past Bagley Wood. Hill towards
Cumnor. Views beyond the village where the Church is being restored
on left side of Headington Hill Road. Lane (overarched) on the left
before entering Marston. Iffley,^
Till in the eastern seas there rise the lustrous [or splendid) sails of
morn ; the seas being the sky^ not literal.
The sun coming with pennons of cloud, cloud-bannerets, an ori-
flamme, a ‘plump’ or something of the sort, of spearlilcc rays.
The sluiced sunrise.
The fields of heaven covered with cye-brights.^ — Whitc-diapered
with stars.
Ajax soliloquizes.® Creeps towards the Scamandcr. His sides washed
in blood, cheeks painted with mud. The chinks of his flesh are lined
B M 28 G
,8 EARLY DIARIES (1864)
in blood. His wound rough-edged. Blades of grass drawn through it as
he moves.
Water dangerous.
Odysseus might meet with one of those dangerous Trojan or Lycian
heroes who are not the less noble because they are never named with
our best
Whose braggart ’scutcheon, whose complaisant crest
Catch sunlight and one strain of stupid praise.
Then when he was wounded and on the point of being, overcome I
would rescue him, assist him home, nay carry him with cruel careful-
ness, avenging myself by praises of his head and wisdom in council,
but hinting the hand could not be quite equal to the head, all owned
him superior in that etc. and praise his courage and tell him I should
do so about the camp. — But no, he won with arms from me ... I hate
his complaisant goodnature about it, his forgiveness of my rancour,
which I will not forgive. Often in the passages of the tents I long to
strike his cheeks. — Ah ! but it would get me the contempt and ridicule
of the Greeks. The sullen sheepish Ajax. Ah ! I grip myself. — How I
remember when the shameless hard-eyed Athene betrayed me into
unwarrior-like disgrace, my clumsy fall, my muck’d cheeks, then how
in a mist of raging shame I could discern but not see the innumerable
faces like lights and heard the laughter like the wind flapping thousands
of coarse fig-leaves. And when lately I tried for the who pitied
me,* yet I pitied them and loved them seeing all their case,
The villain shepherds and misguided flock.
— Ah! flock! how my thoughts run towards my shame, — my shame
blazoned in shame’s own colour blood. I remember when I came to
myself I saw opposite in the polished shield I got from (some Trojan)
my wild white face, fifty times Ajax — and one great round drop of
blood has sunk in my hair like the red sun fallen into tangled golden
mists — sheep’s blood. If he be allowed to lie here — for of course they
will not burn his body with funeral honours — perhaps some one may
bury his bones, scattering dust on them or digging a hole. But Query,
is this a Greek custom ? Then on a summer day, after IVoy is taken,
his soul will feel the roots of the grass warm, and while brilliant* air
waits on the capes and headlands and the skies swim bluely and the
gulfs are bare,* he will be double-sighted and sec the sails standing in
the sea ofTTenedos and the Greeks sailing home. But no, he will not
have this, he cares not for them, he prefers visions of the plain of
Elysium.
Nectary is bracketed above.
*9
EARLY DIARIES (1864)
Do the ancients appear to have possessed a sense of the Picturesque
n external nature ? or, Estimate the value of India to England.
Od. V,* . Odysseus there says that he was in great danger when
he Trojans threw their darts at him, while Ajax bore off the body
)f ‘Peleion’.
Locke. Conduct of the Understanding.^ § xx. ‘Who fair and softly
joes steadily forward in a course that points right.’ In same § ‘miz-
naze’.
Parallelisms. Miss Ingelow^ in first poem says ‘worlds of heather*.
Browning in Old Pictures in Florence Stanza i. ‘Wash’d by the morn-
ng’s water-gold’. That in Shelley,'^ The Pine-grove near the Cascine or
lomething of the sort, where the lines describing the twinkling of the
lun through the leaves at morning occur. Here and elsewhere, also,
.he leaves in reflections etc.
Aulus Gellius says de id genus nominibuSj cf. ‘Those sort of men’.
Ite domum saturae, venit Hesperus, ite cai>ellae.®
‘Go on home on Saturday, the Evening comes on, go to Chapel.’
\. E. Hardy.®
Apoll, Rhod. IV, 771 . rdjjLveiv (absolute) to go, ‘cut’. See Liddell and
Scott sub V, T€fjLV€iv, Probably 6Sov understood.
[/Drezit’/n^ gii en Fig, < 9 .]
Lasher^ from a canal at Wolvercote. The water running down the
lasher violently swells in a massy wave against the opposite bank,
which, to resist its force, is defended by a piece of brick wall. The
shape of wave of course bossy, smooth and globy. Full of bubble and
air, very liquid. — For the rest of the lasher, all except the shoulder
where it first sweeps over it is covered w’ith a kind of silver links.
Running like a wind or element at the shoulder.
Pregnant phrases in English. Putting the stone. — ^The good ship. To
put things, i.e. represent them.
The new names* arc Daniel,® Worcester ; Baker, S. John s ;
Madan,*' Fellow of Queens ; Copeman,*^ Ch. Ch. ; Plummer , *3 Exeter ;
Towgood,*^ S. John’s; Ogle,*^ Magdalen. Suggested Stafford,*® New
Coll., but probably objectionable.
20
EARLY DIARIES (1864)
Newdigate to be sent in March 31, under sealed cover with cover,
and another sealed cover containing name, and motto outside — to
the Registrar.
Note on green wheat. The difference between this green and that
of long grass is that first suggests silver, latter azure. Former more
opacit/, body, smoothness. It is the exact complement of carnation.
Nearest to emerald of any green I know, the real emerald stone. It is
lucent. Perhaps it has a chrysoprase bloom. Both blue greens.
There was neither rain nor snow, it was cold but not frosty : it had
been a gloomy day with all the painful dreariness which December
can wear over Clapham. M. C. came in, a little warmed by her walk.
She had made a call, she had met the Miss Finlaysons, she had done
some shopping, she had been round half the place and seen the naked-
ness of the land, and now it struck her how utterly hateful was Clap-
ham. Especially she abominated the Berlin wool shop, where Mrs.
Vandelinde and her daughter called her ‘Miss’ and there was a con-
tinual sound of sliding glass panels and a smell of Berlin wool.
[Here follows ‘A Morall Essaye by Francis Lo. Verulam, Viscount
St. Alban’ which is printed in a slightly more finished but substan-
tially identical form in a letter to Baillie of March 1864 iiJ-
207-9).]
A. Westenholz, 26. Mark-Lane.*
March 19, Saturday, 1864, walked to Edgware from Hampstead
and home by Hendon, stopping at Kingsbury water a quarter of an
hour or so. Saw what was probably a heron: it settled on a distant
elm, was driven away by two rooks, settled on a still more distant, the
same thing happened, the rooks pursuing it. It then flew across the
water, circled about, and flew Hampsteadwards away.
The sparky air
Leaps up before my vision, — thou art gone.
Frederika’s photograph.^
Danish Soldiers’ and Sailors’ sick and wounded Relief fund.’ Sub-
scriptions to be paid to Messrs. Ransome, Bouverie, and Co, i, Pall-
Mall east; Messrs Robarts, Lubbock, and Co, Lombard-street.
EARLY DIARIES (1864) 2I
Hislop Clarke, Bank of Australasia, Melbourne, Victoria. To be
forwarded.
Speke says* ‘the language of this people’ i.e. that between Zanquebar
and Lake Nyanza . is based on euphony, from which cause it is
very complex, the more especially so as it requires one to be possessed
of a negro’s turn of mind to appreciate the system, and unravel the
secret of its euphonic concord’. I shall therefore put down some notes
on the euphony.
U-sa-Gara, U-za-Ramo, Dege la Mhora, U-ra-guru, Maji ya
Whela, Jiwa la Mkoa, U-n-ya-muezi,^
Note that the Wabembe (W. of Tanganyika Lake), The Masai, and
their cognates, the Wahumba’, (N. of Ugogo), ‘Wataturu,’ (N. of
Mgunda-Mkkali), ‘Wahasange,’ (where?) ‘Wanyaramba’, (where?)
and even the ‘Wagogo of Wakimbu,* (where?) circumcise.
The woman’s dirk worn among the Waganda is like the ancient
Egyptian.
Usagari is in Unyamuezi (between Unyanyembe and Unyambewa),
Cf. with Usagara.
LioncP said (Good Friday, 1864) to Cyril,^ on walking to Kings-
bury, that this year he had been more about the country than ever before
in his life.— The next day he asked the hairdresser for a razor to re-
move the down on his upper lip. Age just 10. Mr Payne suggested
butter in that quarter to be licked off by the cat which would re-
move it.
NB. Munster Church or Cathedral.
Cyril’s declension of imperfect of Tvirruv—etupsay etupsasti, etupsat.
New College Chapel and Gardens; Trinity, S. Johns, Wadham,
ditto. The Radclyffe. The Bodleian. Christ Church Meadows. The
Barges. The Tow Path. Merton new buildings. Christ Church new
buildings. The Botanical Gardens. 1 he Museum.®
The other day I heard a crow sitting in a tree in a field on my left
croaking dolefully. At West End, Hampstead.
92
EARLY DIARIES (1864)
1269— 127O3 Aristoph. Frogs.^ The scholiast on this line, a quotation
from Aeschylus, says ^Aplcrrapxos fcal AvoXAcivios^ ** imaKetpaade^ ttoOcv
^I fjl Query, Whence are these words? This is noteworthy, first as the
Greek for our expression, Query, secondly as shewing, for the scholiast
goes on to say that Timakhidas said they were from Aeschylus’s
Telephos, Asklepiades from his Iphigeneia, the ignorance possible in the
scholiast’s time, which perhaps implies the loss or extreme rarity of
some of Aeschylus’s plays.
Locke says ‘when as’.
C. J. Bloxam, 16, Bedford Place, Russell Sq. W.C.
Monday. 12. Logic. — 8.40 p.m. Comp.
Tuesday. 10. The Gospels, — 12. Translation.
Wednesday. 12. Logic. — i. Sophocles. — 8.40 p.m. Comp.
Thursday. 12. — Translation
Friday. 12. Logic. — 8.40 p.m. Comp.
Saturday. 10. The Gospels. — 12. Grammar. — i. Sophocles.
Sunday loth April. Walking with Addis^ in the fields from Cumnor
to the Witney Road, saw a snake glide through a hedge, thus —
[Drawing given Fig. ^.] The curves being apparently formed by the
twigs etc round which he drew himself.
Opening on the right (from here) in a hollow, on the road beyond
Kennington, which runs below the plantations which border the other
side of Abingdon Road to Bagley Wood.^
Near above place saw a squirrel running along branches of brush-
wood.
Dale in above plantation. Fir-grove on skirts of down beyond turn-
pike where Abingdon and the other road divide round Bagley wood.
Opening in long avenue at Water Eton with view of the house.
Cumnor and road thereto.
- and on their brittle green quils*
Shake the balanced daffodils.
Sheaves of bluebells with silver tails.
* Thus in MS,
23
EARLY DIARIES (1864)
The merits and defects of the morality of chivalry.
The effect on politics of changes in the art of war.
April. 14. Walked with Gurney to Elsfield. Sketched E. window of
Church, which is in transition from decorated to perpendicular, or
rather decorated with traces of perpendicularity. It had strange all
its windows except the E. and two or p)crhaps three others. The E.
had original tracery (see sketch book).' These others were 3-lightcd
square-headed ; as far as I remember the lights were lancet-shaped
and cinquefoiled. The mullions were carried up to the head. The
parson’s son kindly let us in to see the Easter decorations. The widest
and most charming views from Elsfield. A plain lies on the opposite
side to Oxford with villages crowned with square church-towers
shining white here and there. The lines of the fields, level over level,
are striking, like threads in a loom. Splendid trees — ehns, and farther
on great elliptic-curve oaks.^ Bloomy green of larches. Standing on a
high field on all sides over the hedge the horizon balanced its blue
brim. The cowslips’ heads, I see, tremble in wind. Noticed also fre-
quent partings of ash-boughs.
Moonlight hanging or dropping on treetops like blue cobweb.
Also the upper sides of little grotted waves turned to the sky have
soft pale-coloured cobwebs on them, the under sides green.
[Here is ike drawing given Fig, /o.]
Note that the beaded oar, dripping, powders or sows the smooth
with dry silver drops.
[Beside this note is the drawing given Fig, ir.]
Poetry at Oxford. ^ rx.. 1 j
It is a happy thing that there is no royal road to poetry. 1 he world
should know by this time that one cannot reach Parnassus except by
flying thither. Yet from time to time more men go up and either
perish in its gullies fluttering excelsior flags or else come down agam
with full folios and blank countenances. Yet the old fallacy keeps its
ground. Every age has its false alarms.
May Walked with Addis to Staunton* Harcourt.* The Church
is cru^orm and rather large, with a Norman door and several win-
dows etc, Early English East end and other windows, wmdows m
♦ Thus in MS.
94
EARLY DIARIES (1864)
tower (probably) Decorated, a Decorated or more probably Perpen-
dicular parapet, and Perpendicular windows. The Early English is
certainly unattractive, however the Church is evidently in Egypt and
Churchwardenship. We did not go into it, nor into the tower (close to
the church, in Perpendicular, rather shorter than that of the church,)
in the top storey of which Pope finished his 5th volume of Homer, or
of the Iliad, nor into the Octagon-roofed kitchen, which except one
at Glastonbury is unparalleled in England, nor into the chapel, which
with the tower and kitchen belonged to Stanton Harcourt Manor-
house, I believe. Pope lived here two years. Gay some time. We saw
to our great surprise the tablet (on Church walls) raised to William
(or John) Hewett and Sarah Drew, affianced lovers, killed by light-
ning; one of Pope’s epitaphs is on the tablet. Vide the account, and
writings which rose on subject. Charming place, rather of my ideal
Stratford-on-Avon kind ; willows, lovely elms. Pool of inky black
water with leaves in it. Vertical shortish grass. Orchards with trunks
of trees smeared over with the common white mbeture, whatever it is,
rather pretty than otherwise. Primroses, large, in wet, cool, shady
place.— On way fields yellow with cowslip and dandelion. Found
purple orchis, which opens flowers from ground, then rises the stem
pushing upward. Crossed Isis at Skinner’s Weir, or as people about
call it. Wire. Beautiful elfect of cloud. Wild apple(?) beautiful in
blossom. Caddis-flies on stones in clear stream, water-snails and leeches.
Round-looldng glossy black fieldmouse of some kind or water-rat in
ditch on Witney Road. Cuckoo. Peewits wheeling and tumbling, just
as they are said to do, as if with a broken wing. They pronounce
pretty distinctly, sometimes querulously, with a slight metallic
tone like a bat’s cry. Their wings are not pointed, to the eye, when
flymg, but broad, white and of a black or reddish purple apparently
Saw one day dead (water-?) rat floating down Isis. The head
downward, hind legs on surface, thus— [Draiwng given Fig. 12.]
was
Snakes’-heads.*
Like i^ops of blood. Buds pointed and like snakes’ heads, but the
reason of name from mottling and scaly look.
^ f times of Savonarola^ says ‘It was with
Almighty , that the Reformation first saved a large portion of the
JiTtori --t-ialism; these"fimle?CaVhS^!
ilrength, and in part renaw its youth. This is the KtUed
EARLY DIARIES (1864) 25
opinion of the most orthodox “Romanist*’ writers.’ — of the most
orthodox writers, we may say, Anglican and Romanist.
In the carving of a miserere seat in Cathedral' (as printed in
the late book on the Cathedrals) is a figure of a man with a high cap
and a coat like a harlequin’s. This must be looked into.
\^Here are drafts of^Piiate\ Poems, p, 1/7.]
Wade^^^^ waddle ^ vadere, vadum,
wade: waddle = stride .'straddle = swathe : swaddle = ming(mix) :
mingle etc.
New Inn HalP is quite a mistaken way of writing the name. It
should be Newing Hall. Newing must be the participle of an obsolete
verb to new (from which renew)y intransitive. Cf. Stoke Newington, The
Newingate, meaning the New Gale of some town I forget what, which
I saw the other day. Cf. also Newnham for Newinham or Newingham.
Renew^^^ (see above) is perhaps from renovate and took its English
form from the analogy of new.
Something, Upper Seyinour Street, Oxford Street. Bowditch.^
with <l>Xvap€iv. Scojf^^^ is with aKOfm-ew.
Gulf^\ golf. If this game has its name from the holes into which
the ball is put, they may be connected, both being from the root
meaning hollow. Gulp, gala, hollow, hold, hilt, icotAd?, caelare (to make
hollow, to make grooves in, to grave) caelum, which is therefore same
as though it were what it once was supposed to be a translation of
KoiXov, hole, hell, (‘The hollow hell’) skull, shell, hull (of ships and
beans).
skM^\ originally I believe to divide, discriminate. From same
word or root shell (in a school), shilling (division of a pound), and they
say school (both of boys and whales), shoal, scale (of fish), keel, etc.
Skill is of course^^J connected with scindere and other words meaning
to cut, divide — crxijctv etc.
Roses. ^Senateur Vaissc, a grand regsJ flower of first-class excel-
lence. General Jacqueminot, Lord Raglan, and a heap of such
celebrities, are “fools** to him. Strong and vigourous in constitution,
26
EARLY DIARIES (1864)
he unites the most glorious and vivid scarlet-crimson colour to a very
closcly-filled-out form : a rose, as one of the best judges says, that
‘ ‘cannot be too often recommended”. The Senateur’s partner, Madame
Boll, is, of its colour, decidedly A i . Rose in colour, full in form, cupped,
or rather globular in shape (has the “lines of beauty” as scarcely no
other rose has)’, — this is scarcely no grammar.^
[First draft of part of *A Voice from the World\ Poems, p. 125.]
She schools the flighty pupils of her eyes,
With levell’d lashes stilling their disquiet ; \
And puts in leash her pair’d lips lest surprise
Bare the condition of a realm at riot.
If he suspect that she has ought to sigh at
His injury she’ll avenge with raging shame.
She kept her love- thoughts on most Lenten diet.
And learnt her not to startle at his name.
AAAQKPATYNQNEinE
POPGAKOYElSQZEYnANT
ANAZZQNMHAAGOIZETAN"
[Here is an unfinished and cancelled drawing of window-tracery^ not
reproduced^ followed by the drawing of a gir^ given Fig, /j.]
From Grandmamma^
9s. 6d.
Ticket to Victoria
IS. 4d.
8s.
id.
us.
4d.
i6s.
9 d.
Notes for essay on Some aspects of Modern mediaevalism^
Tide not such as might be wished, but represents pictorially what
is meant. May be objected that the various movements of the Century
which have mediaeval externals deeper than a mere return to middle
age forms. Very true. But no other title conveys so much of what I
mean.
Subject treated not through all its bearings but remarks on various
points to be made.
Historical remarks.
German movement. Tieck etc. This I must get up. The Schlegels.
Gk)ethe, whose balanced mind must not be considered as the ideal of
EARLY DIARIES (1864) a;
the century, representing the most desired union of the classical and
mediaeval.
Note. Curious instance of early application of local colour. In
Byzantine-school casket of ivory (preserved in Cathedral of Sens, a
facsimile of which is in possession of Arundel Society) has a representa-
tion of Joseph in Egyptian dress, headdress in particular.
He was a shepherd’ of the Arcadian mood.
That not Arcadia knew nor Haemony.
Affined to the earnest solitude,
{ The listening downs and breezes seemed he.
The winds and listening downs he seem’d to be.
He went with listless strides, dLsorderedly.
And answer’d the dry tinkles of his sheep
With piping unexpected melody.
With absent looks inspired as one drunk deep
In nectar filter’d thro’ the thymy leaves of sleep.
of the down
He rested on the , of the down
(forehead
Shaping his outlines on a field of cloud.
His sheep seem’d to step from it, past the crown
Of the hill grazing :
[Among the verses above come the drawings given Figs, 14, /j, / 5 .]
June 30.
On this day the clouds were lovely. Opposite the sun between 10
and 1 1 was the disshevelled* cloud on page opposite. The clouds were
repeatedly formed in horizontal ribs. At a distance their straightness
of line was wonderful. In passing overhead they were something as in
the (now) opposite page, the ribs granulated delicately the splits
fretted with lacy curves and honeycomb work, the laws of which were
exquisitely traced. They in the zenith thus. There were squared odd
disconnected pieces of cloud now and then seen thus [dramng], as if
cut out from a lost whole. The blue of the sky was very good. A web of
the thinnest lacy cloud near the sun had films of colour chiefly rose
(pale) and greenish blue in broad bars caught on its tissue. Torn wisps
of cloud prevailed later in the day like this [drawing] and so on.
Plots of blue sky. Tendrils and wisps of cloud
Damask clouds.
[The three pages of this description are given infacsimik, Fig. ly.]
* Thus in MS,
38
EARLY DIARIES (1864)
[Here come the drawings of imaginary tracery and vaulting given
Fig. jS. They are followed by seven slight drawings^ not reproduced:
(i) and (ii) Imaginary tracery; (iii) Tree-trunk with branch; (ty)
\?)Two tendrils or ornamented thongs; (v) Group of three tree-
trunks in outline^ with the edges of two others on left; {vi) (?) Outline
of steep hills; (yii) In the margin beside the next written entry, a
cancelled drawing of the dome of a railway-engine.^
Tito Telemaque Terenzio Themistocles Theophile Paliardini, which
in this form is half French, half Italian. Perhaps one should read Tito
Telemacho Terenzio Temistocle Teofilo or however it is in Italian.
I met all that at Miss Yatman’s on July 9, 1864.
[Here is a small drawing marked *Fine weather clouds. Sun above.
July II. Hampstead\ too faint to reproduce successfully, followed
by full drafts of 'A Soliloquy of one of the Spies\ Poems, pp. 2 ^- 2 y.
There are variant readings of more or less importance in almost every
stanza, and the poem takes up nearly 10 pages of the Diary. The
stanzas printed second and fourth are written three or four times each
in various arrangements: their most important variants are given below.]
St. 2. Away with him ! No elders, law nor rod.
Come to the flesh-pots and have pleasant meat.
j ( have borne the tent-poles : 1 j
Your hands j • 1 . ^ 1 and the rod
I are tired with tent-poles :
Of the elders threatens you. Tired are your feet.
Come to the flesh-pots : you shall sit unshod
I And break your pleasant meat.
I And have your fill of meat.
And bring | offerings to a grateful god,
( That will not make you plod.
\ Nor need to toil and plod.
Or rcEurranging it in some way
And fear no iron rod.
[ Then comes stanza 2 as printed in Poems.]
or
And small gifts from the loamy stintless sod,
I Bring to a grateful god.
I a more —
Bring wheat-ears from the loamy stintless sod,
i And serve a grateful god.
1 For a more —
29
St*
EARLY DIARIES (1864)
O for the wells of Elim, the sweet calms!
Who would drink water from a stony rock?
I Scant is the manna-bush. rr>, ^ ,
The seventy palms
I- are — -trees.
Are shelter for this flock.
Dig not with staves, ye princes, sing no psalms.
Here are both myrrh and balms.
Dig not with staves, ye princes, nor sing psalms.
The sanded water from the stony rock
Heats us. The wells of Elim, and sweet calms !
What shelter for this flock
In the scant manna-bush and the few balms?
Behold the seventy palms I
[Among the drafts above are: (i) A very slight and faint sketch of
a sky with colours written in, dated July 10; («*) A tiny cancelled
sketch of a head; {Hi) A minute drawing of a rat. Then come drafts
of two of the following stanzas, the ist written around a cancelled
small sketch of a face; and the drawing ^July j6. Caen Wood\^
given Fig. ig. The other drawings are not reproduced.]
Altho’ unchallenged,^ where she sits.
Three rivals throng her garden chair.
And tho’ the silver seed that flits
Above them, down the draught of air,
And holds | breeze and clears the seas
— keeps)
And tangles on a down of France,
Yet leaves him in ungirdled ease
8000 furlongs in advance.
The destined lover, whom his stars
More golden than the world of lights.
O’er passes bleak, o’er perilous bars
Of rivers, lead, thro’ storms and nights.
Or if he leave the West behind.
Or father’d by the sunder’d South,
Shall, when his star is zenith’d, find
Acceptance round his mistress’ mouth :
30
EARLY DIARIES (1864)
But in the other’s horoscope
Bad Saturn with a swart aspect
Fronts Venus. — His ill-launched hope
j In unimperill’d roads is wreck’d.
\ — haven- .
He meets her, stintless of her smile ;
Her choice in roses knows by heart ;
Has danced with her : and all the while
They are Antipodes apart.
His sick stars falter. More he may
Not win, if this be not enough.
He meets upon Midsummer day
The stabbing coldness of rebuff.
The other leaves the West behind
Or it may be the prodigal South,
Passes the seas and comes to find
Acceptance round his mistress’ mouth.
Jeremy Taylor speaks of The Middle Ages. * Holy Living, Chap. II, § in,
The Evil Consequents of Uncleanness, 10.
[Here is the drawing of water lilies dated ^July i8\ given Fig, 20,]
Dixon.^ The Brownings. Miss Rossetti. D. G. Rossetti.
The Preraphaelite brotherhood.^ Consisting of D.G.R., Millais,
Holman Hunt, Woolner, and three others. One of these three went out
to Australia.
[Here are some very faint and slight sketch-notes of a sky, dated
"‘July 18, ’64.’ Mot reproduced. Then comes the drawing given
Fig, 21.]
During the eastering of untainted morns.
In the ascendancy of rainbow’s horns,
In the first signals of the several drops
That lick the shelly leaves which floor the copse,
In the quick fragrance of tall rolling pines,
Under the cloister-light of greenhouse vines,
EARLY DIARIES (1864)
3 *
— Hill,
Heaven and every field, are still
I As a self-embraced sweet thought :
I caress’d — —
I And the thin stars tremble not.
I — — lessen’d stars ray — .
[Here is the drawing of trees dated ^July 22, ^64\ given Fig, 22,]
dTTcAej8d(^tfaA/iOff, locust-eyedy = bee-faced. Eubulus, I, 10.
Distance
Dappled with diminish’d trees
Spann’d with shadow every one.
The peacock’s eye
Winks away its azure sheen
Barter’d for a ring of green.
The bean-shaped pupil of moist jet
Is the silkiest violet.
[ This is followed by the more finished version given in Poems,
below which is written Overloaded, apparently.]
Love preparing to fly
He play’d his wings as though for flight ;
They webb’d the ^y with glassy light.
His body sway’d upon tiptoes.
Like a wind-perplexM rose ;
In eddies of the wind he went
At last up the blue element.
Mem. To ask Mr Burton* about picture-frames, price of models,
whether the pictures by W. S. Burton^ in the Academy are his, about
the Preraphaelite Brotherhood, the French Preraphaelites, the Diissel-
dorf school etc.
[Drawing of the tracery of a Gothic window^ given Fig, i?^.]
SkilP^ etc.
Primary meaning, to divide, cut apart. Skill, discernment. To keel,
to skim. Keel, that part of a ship which cuts a way through the water.
Skull, an oar which skims the water. Shell (in a school) a division.
32 EARLY DIARIES (1864)
Shillings a division of a pound. School and shoal as applied to Rshes, a
division, company. See p. 123.* Shell^^"^ of a snail, bird etc, skull of the
head are from word meaning hollow and their likeness to the words
above is a coincidence only.
[Draft of ^Barnfloor and Winepress\ Poems, p, 38,]
NEW READINGS.^
Altho’ God’s word has said \
On thistles that men look not grapes to gather,'
I read the story rather
( How soldiers matted ... j tt* l j
plaited round His head
Where fruit of precious wine was shortly sped.
Tho’ when the sower sowed,
The winged fowls eat part, part fell on thorn,
And never grew to corn,
Part could not spring upon the flinty road.
Yet at all hazards Christ his fruit hath shcw’d.
Hard ways, rough wanderings
Made Him not fruitless ; in the thorns he shed
Grains from his drooping head.
And would not have that Legion of wing’d things
Bear him to heaven upon easeful wings.
[Draft of^He hath abolish' d\ Poems, p, 28.^
Barbe, Quadrant.
Fau’s Anatomic.*
F. Madox Brown.
Seddon.*
Cornelius,^ Overbeck and some one else (Rechel?) founders of Ger-
man medievalism. Cornelius used to draw his smallest figures in
charcoal.
Rethels a man of real genius would have been the master of the
school but died young.
• MS page on which comes previous note on Skill, See p, 53 .
EARLY DIARIES (1864) 33
Diisseldorf School, a poor affair. Now split into sects. Chiefly
imitates the French,
Belgian School. Has one great medievalist Henri Lcys.*^ His fol-
lowers feeble.
Sort of French Preraphaclitism, but very little medievalism in feel-
ing though medieval subjects.
[Here are sketched a dozen small symmetrical patterns^ possibly as if
for bosses in stone vaulting. Not reproduced.]
On this page is a capital of a column and line of roof in pcrsp)ective, by
Burton* the painter, to illustrate the absurdity of the architects’ per-
spective, in which if a section of a column were made, the column
would have, not a horizontal, but a vertical or oblique, ellipse, so that
the column must be elliptical, not round, in shape ; which occasions
the odd look of architects’ drawings. July 25. 1864.
[Drawing of a young man in Renaissance dress^ given Fig. 24^
followed immediately by drawing of a sky^ marked in the corner
Translucent purple mist, given Fig. 2^.]
REST.*
I have desired to go
Where springs not fail ;
To fields where flies not the unbridled hail,
And a few lilies blow
I have desired to be
Where havens are dumb ;
Where the green water-heads may never come,
As in the unloved sea.
Or
I have desired to be
Where gales not come ;
Where the green swell is in the havens dumb
And sunder’d from the sea
[Here follows must hunt down the prize\ Poems, p. 127.]
Mem. Miss Yatman. Tourists’ book. Bond’s books. Ticket-Money.
Hair to be cut.
• MS not clear, but GMH seems to have written the name Lluys : see noU at p. 5/5,
D
34
EARLY DIARIES (1864)
Gerente designed windows at All Saints, except those in the clere-
story, which are by O’Connor.*
A Majesty.
From Papa £5. Umbrella £1, Book for Hardy 4s. Hair-cutting. 6d.
Cab. 3s. 6d. Ticket £2. los. Omnibus from Llangollen station. 4d.
Bill at Llangollen. £^, 9. Coachman, is. Porter. 6d.
[Here is the drawing given Fig. 26; beside it a small sketch of {?) trees
on a hillside^ not reproduced.']
Written on flags below the words ‘Success to Savin’.^
Hir oes allwydd i’r ddau brawd Savin, — dichon
Gor fo byth i’w dylyn ;
A phan ddaw terfyn i’w hoes frau,
Y nefoedd fyddo cartre’r ddau.
[Here are the lines ‘ Why should their foolish bands' and ‘ Why if it
be so\ Poems, p. 128. Then seven rough drawings of bosses and
tracery, not reproduced. They are followed by the entry ‘John Price/
Caegweir/Carnarvon’, and after that come two tables for memor-
izing the Greek liquid measures, not printed.]
F. W. Burton^ Esqre., 43, Argyle Road, Phillimorc Gardens,
Kensington, S.W.
Or else their cooings came from bays of trees,
Like a contented wind, or gentle shocks
Of falling water. This and all of these
We tuned to one key and made their harmonies.
Maentwrog.
[Here are the lines Tt was a hard thing', Poems, p. 128.]
N. Niclas Geop.^ 8. 31 (Geoponica edited by Niclas). Kovhiros
otvo^, translation of vinum conditum. The accent is interesting.
[On a half-page cut out of the Diary here, p. igi recto, comes the
drawing "Gerard Hopkins, reflected in a lake. Aug. if, given
Fig. 27.]
35
EARLY DIARIES (1864)
Glimmer’d along the square-cut steep.
They chew’d the cud in hollows deep;
Their cheeks moved and the bones therein.
The lawless honey* eaten of old
Has lost its savour and is roll’d
Into the bitterness of sin.
What would befal* the godless flock
Appear’d not for the present, till
A thread of light betray’d the hilP
Which with its lined and creased flank
The outgoings of the vale does block.
Death’s bones fell in with sudden clank
As wrecks of mined embers will.
Late I fell in the ecstacy*
And saw the men before the flood
Which once were disobedient
Think of an opening page illumined
With the ready azure and high carmine : — think
Her face was such, as being diapered
With loops of veins ; not of an even pink,
Maentwrog.
[Here are short further drafts of the ^Spfs Soliloquy, Poems, p. 23;
then some rough jottings of tracery, not reproduced; then come
Epigram (i), Poems, p, i2g, written Tn the van between Ffes-
tiniog and Bala’, and drafts of ^ Miss Storf s character!^ ^ Poems,
p. 286; between them, ^Miss Louisa MayfSidmouth House jReading\
in another hand; and the next entry.']
Her prime of life — cut down too soon
By death — as th ’morning flower at noon :
Her loving husband lives t’ deplore :
Yet hopes she’ll flourish evermore.
Jane Green.
Wife of Jonathan Green, of this Parish, Baker.
20th 184k
Aged 52 years.^
Mem. To read Gray’s Poems, Vanity Fair, Henry V, VI and
VIII and Richard III, Coleridge’s® Greek Classic Poets, Gresley’s^ Short
• Thus in MS.
36 EARLY DIARIES (1864)
Treatise on the English Churchy Chronicles of Carlingford^ — The Perpetual
Curate^ Hamlet y Max Mtiller,* The Christians of SU Thomas,^
Did Helen steal my love from me?
She never had the wit.
Or was it Jane? But she’s too plain,
And could not compass it.
A bad verse in the middle, then
It might be Helen, Jane, or Kate,
It might be none of the three :
But I’m alone, for my love’s gone
That should have been true to me.
[Fragments from ^Floris in half begin herCy but have been moved
forward to p, 40.]
— the shallow folds of the wood
We found were dabbled with a colouring growth,
In lakes of bluebells, pieced with primroses.
In the green spots of that wood
Were eyes of central primrose : bluebells ran
In skeins about the brakes.
[A cancelled version comes before the next entry,]
Like shuttles fleet the clouds, and after
A drop of shade rolls over field and flock ;
The wind comes breaking here and there with laughter :
The violet moves and copses rock.
When the wind drops you hear the skylarks sing ;
From Oxford comes the throng and hum of bells
Breaking the air of spring.
In Slavonic bugii = terreo. cf. Bug-bear^^\ hoggle (North country
name for ghost), bog^, bug. Liddell and Scott connect
<l>vy€LVy with Sanskrit bhiig, bhigdmi (flecto) ; Gothic biuga [biege ) ;
Slavonic bega {fugio)y bugti {terreo) ; Latin fugio. They might have
added our budget^! which is almost identical in sound with the Sans-
^it bhdg, i,e. bhuf And perhaps jg for boglky but of this I
have no certainty.
37
EARLY DIARIES (1864)
[Epigram [ii)-{v) in Poems, pp, are written among the
followingJ]
On a dunce who had not a word to say for himself.
He’s all that’s bad, I know; a knave, a flat,
But his effrontery’s not come to that.
By Mrs. Hopley.*
He’s wedded to his theory, they say.
If that were true, it could not live a day.
And did he on the children of his brains
Bestow but half the pains
The children of his loins receive instead
There would not be a whole place in his head.*
or
And did the children of his brains enjoy
But half the pains he spends upon his boy,
You may depend that ere a week was fled.
There etc.
On seeing her children say Goodnight to their father.
Bid your Papa Goodnight. Sweet exhibition!
They kiss the rod with filial submission.
By one of the old school who was bid to follow Mr Browning’s flights.
To rise you bid me with the lark :
With me ’tis rising in the dark.
Roupel’s^ flattering account of his crimes.
A candied confession.
Me thinks the pretty chatterings of lovers should be called Jargonelle
Pairs, they are so sweet in the mouth.
Fast days I have found slow days ; you do not know how long short
commons will last.
Reflection of stars in water. — Pointed golden drops. Gold tails.
Church Times,
EARLY DIARIES (1864)
Let me now
/Jolt
( Shake and unset your morticed metaphors.
The hand draws off the glove; the acorn-cup
Drops the fruit out; the duct runs dry or breaks;
The stranded keel and kelson warp apart;
And your two etc.
[Of the fragments from ‘Floris in Italy' which follow^ thm have been
moved forward 12-15 pages in MS^ and one back from d. //, to link
up with the prose scene that continues into the 2nd Diary. See p. 56
and Preface^ p. xviii,']
It does amaze me/ when the clicking hour
Clings on the stroke of death, that I can smile.
Yet when my unset tresses hung loose- traced
Round this unsexing doublet, — ^while I set
This downy counterfeit upon my lip,
— Lately I fear'd
My signalling tears might ring up Floris ; now
( Methinks my laughter is more perilous
y there is more peril from my laughter.
Well, I know not.* But all things seem to-night
Double as sharp, meaning and forcible,
With twice as fine a sense to apprehend them.
As ever I remember in my life.
Laughing or tears. I think I could do either —
So strangely elemented is my mind’s weather,
That tears and laughter are hung close together.
(Comes to the bed,)
Sleep Floris while I rob you. Tighten, O sleep,
Thy impalpable oppression. Pin him down,
Ply fold on fold across his dangerous eyes,
Lodge his eyes fast ; but yet as easy and light
As the laid gossamers of Michaelmas
Whose silver skins lie level and thick in field.
Hold him. —
I must not turn the lantern on his face. —
No ril not hazard it. Only his hand,
(Turns the lantern on Floris' hand,)
(Trying on the ring.)
It is too large for me. What docs that mean?
4 *
EARLY DIARIES (1864)
No time to think. I’ll knot it on this ribbon.
And wear it thus, a pectoral, by my heart.
Did I say but lately
That I was so near laughter? Alas now
I find I am as ready with my tears
As the fine morsels of a dwindling cloud
That piece themselves into a race of drops
To spill o’er fields of lilies. So could I
So waste in tears over this bed of sweetness.
This flower, this Floris, this dear majesty.
This royal manhood. — ’Tis in me rebellion
To speak so, yet I’ll speak it for this once,
Deep shame it were to be discover’d so,
Worse than when Floris found me in the garden
Weeping, — Even now I curse myself remembering
No, let that go ; I have said Goodnight to shame.
Now let me see you, you large princely hand,
Since on the face it is unsafe to look ;
Yet this could be no other’s hand than his,
’Tis so conceived in his lineament.
[or ’Tis so conceived in his true lineament,]
I have wrong’d it of its coronet, and now
I outrage it with treasonable kissing.
Ah Floris, Floris, let me speak this little
What I do now is but the least least thing.
But since I have no scope for benefits
Though ill-contented, precious precious Floris,
Most ill-content, this least least thing I do.
Now one word more and then I am gone indeed.
Warn’d by the bright procession of the stars.
My cousin will not love you as I love,
Floris ; she will not hit thy sum of worth.
Thou jacinth ; nor have skill of all thy virtues,
Floris, thou late-found All-heal ;
With what bold grace
This sweet Deserter lists herself anew
I Sexing and ranking with our ruder files
I Enroll’d and
I sex6d
And marching to false colours ! those few strokes
That forge her title of inheritance
43
EARLY DIARIES (1864;
To manhood, on the upper lip, — they look’d
Most like the tuft of plighted silver round
— plighted tuft of-
— silver plighted tuft about
The mouthed centre of a violet.
Giulia writing. Fool jumps up and seats himself in window,
F. Madam. ,
G, You startled me.
F, Madam, what are you doing ? ^
G. Fool, writing a letter. i
F, I thought it was your will. I approve your care ; butiindeed it is
better to have a lawyer at once. For my part I nev^er send ^ loveletter
without an attorney. I would never bid anyone to dinner without
taking legal opinion.
G, This is not a loveletter nor an invitation. It is to my cousin. I can
make nothing of it. Dictate to me now, Fool.
F, Truth or untruth ?
G, Truth.
F. And will you set down whatever I read you ?
G, Why, truth, they say, is not expedient to speak at all times.
F, Do you defend lying. Madam?
G, You know what I mean. It is better to conceal at times.
F, There are some ladies who conceal all things at all times. Crystal
sincerity hath found no shelter but in a fool’s cap ; I have long found
it so. It loves the innocent tinkle of the bells, and only speaks by the
mouths of men of my profession. But to the letter. Whether when it is
set down you will send it or no, you shall decide. If you do not send it,
I shall despair of your judgment. But it shall be as you will. Now will
you promise to set down what I read you ?
G, If it be truth.
F, You must forfeit a gold piece, if you refuse.
G, Very well, I will forfeit a gold piece.
F, Lay it down on the table.
G. Can you not trust me ?
F. No, Madam, not a woman ■, least of all in matters of money.
G. Then you shall not have it at all.
F, I said so. Madam, you stand convicted. You must ever pack
with your sex.
C. Then there it is. {Laying it down.)
F, A hostage. Now, truth, you say ?
G. Why, would you have me write lies?
F. Madam, if you follow me, I will take care it will be nothing but
truth. If at any place you refuse to write, you forfeit. Is it agreed?
43
EARLY DIARIES (1864)
G. As long as you keep to truth, it is.
F. Thus then. Cousin ^ —
G. Why what a boorish opening is that!*
September g. 1864
Continued from last volume.^
Do you suppose I assail my cousin with such martial peremptory
salutations ? I say dearest Cousin or dear Cousin,
F, But she is neither dearest Cousin nor dear Cousin now. And you
have forfeited your gold piece.
G. No, I have put it down. Go on.
F. Cousin^ Neither wish to deceive me, for you shall never put out my eyes; nor
G. Why,—
F. Madam, beware for your forfeit. Neither wish to deceive me, for
you shall never put out my eyes; nor think that I can be silent on what I see.
You are doing that thing a woman can never forgive, and which, in your way
of doing it, is a very shame to a woman to do,
G, What is all this ?
F. Madam! That I love desperately you know well: that you love at all I
much doubt: that I am not loved is my misery: that you are loved is the fear that
graces my I^nt of lovelessness with the diet of gall and the mortifying of tears.
You are not writing.
They came
Next to meadows abundant, pierced with flowers.
With sulphur-colour’d lilies, brittle in stalk,
rAnd seals of red carnation which had each
I — live
I — vive
Two tongues like butterflies.
Above
The vast of heaven stung with brilliant stars.
[The opposite page of the MS is wholly taken up with a very slight
sketch of features in a sky. At top left of the sketch is written: Pale
blue. A long straight silvery streak above, resting at each
end most likely on the sky-line. Then comes the jotted sketch,
and against the lower part of it are written warm and sky-line.
At the bottom left is written Sept. 10, 1864. Croydon. The sketch
is longways on the page.]
44
EARLY DIARIES (1864)
A. What is your name, boy?
B. George, if you please Sir.
A. Why it doesn’t please me at all. I think George is a fustian name.
C. Fustian, what a word! why labourers’ jackets are made of fus-
tian. {aside.)
A. You see it isn’t how it pleases me, but how it pleased your god-
fathers and godmothers — how many years ago?
B. What, Sir?
A. Why, how old are you ? '
B. Fourteen. \
A. Fourteen? A pretty age. ^
C. How can one age be prettier than another? You might as well
say half past nine was a very handsome time of day. {Aside.)
[Here come the lines ^How looks the night ?\ Poems, p. 144,^
Stars waving their indivisible rays.
Sky fleeced with the milky way.
Night’s lantern
Pointed with piercfed lights, and breaks of rays
Discover’d everywhere.
Lucretius IV, 1255. ‘Crassaque conveniunt liquidis et liquida
crassis.’ And the quantityf*^ iqu in the various words liqueOy liquidus^
etc. notoriously varies. Liquidus^^^ is same as limpidus. Now linquo,^^^
of which the perfect is liqui, is certainly same as Xelnw. We may
conclude^^^ that the lengthening of iqu in the above verse, arose from
a (perhaps then no longer existing) form or pronunciation linquidus
which was transmuted into limpidus. Perhaps ActVo) may have passed
through the form XelfiTru). Compare in English dank and damp^ hump
and hufJi.
N.B. Air of i6th century. Polly Oliver.^ Admiral Benbow. Charlie is my
darling. Dance tune of Charles II. Watkins' Ale. Die drei Rdselein. Several
beautiful Airs without words in a thin smallish music book of Aunt
Fanny’s.^
Scene. A cave in a quarry. Evening, Gabriel comes to ask the advice
of the hermit, who has however died. He is half-mad. He runs out and
finds some night-shade berries which he cats. These make him deli-
rious. A shepherd and his wife take refuge in the cave from the violence
of the rain; she crouching in the corner, he standing at the door. Re-
enter Gabriel.
45
EARLY DIARIES (1864)
G. Can you remember why he set me this penance? What has
happened with me ? Have I wronged any man’s wife ? I can call none
to mind, — Who are you?
S, What do you want with me?
G. Are you married ?
S, Who are you that ask me these questions ?
G. What, do you think I am the only man that has been shamed in
his bed? Get into the wet. There is nightshade about. Out, out,
cuckoo. Out of the nest. (Thrusting him out.)
S, Keep back. (Strikes him with his heavy stick. Gabriel falls with
a cry.)
G. O Maurice, you have hurt me. You have struck me, Maurice.
I have not wronged your wife, nor any mans wife. You are handsome
and strong and my friend : there is not such another in the court, but
you strike too hard.
W, Nay, John, you have hurt him. He bleeds. Now see here, John ;
’tis a thousand pities if you have hurt him. There’s a face to be sure.
G. Gabrielle ! I know you. But you are under a cloud. Ay, they say
so : ’tis the talk of the whole court. Yes, I know your husband ; good
but weak. They say he still loves her very, very, very much. Oh the
misery. It is a weakness. The last time I saw him he lay in a quarry
bleeding. I am cold : cover me up.
W, It is wicked to laugh, but he does talk wild. Dear, dear, poor
soul. There put your hands down.
G. See, it rains blood. The moon shall be turned into blood. — ^Why
if all the jealous husbands run their horns at us as you did, shepherd,
there’ll be no gallantry left in these latter days.
S. Best leave him. We can do nought for him. He is clean mad.
W, Now John, how can be so hard-hearted. Come, I’ll not stir; so
you may do as you like.
G. No, never leave her. And yet I have been bitterly, horribly,
horribly wronged. — ^Well the tale runs thus. The husband went away,
his friend committed adultery with his wife, the husband comes back,
does nothing, but goes as near madness as the scalp is to the scull,*
and the devil has a good find of souls. — ^Well ’tis the story of Launcelot
and Guinevere again. Some call her Guinevera, some Guinevere, but
the story is the same.
— O Guinevere
I read that the recital of thy sin.
Like knocking thunder all round Britain’s welkin,
Jarr’d down the balanced storm ; the bleeding heavens
Left not a rood with curses unimpregnate;
• Thus in MS*
46
EARLY DIARIES (1864)
There was no crease or gather in the clouds
But dropp’d its coil of woes : Arthur’s Britain,
The mint of current courtesies, the forge
Where all the virtues were illustrated
In blazon, gilt and images of bronze,
- gilt and blazon - bronze statuary,
— mail’d shapes of bronze.
Abandoned by her saints, turn’d black and blasted,
Like scalded banks topp’d once with principal flowers :
Such heathenish misadventure
dogg’d
dogs
one sin.'
Cf. p. 5.* So Strongule now Stromboli.
Sfax name of a town in district of Tunis,
cf. Syphax.
Dewy fields in the morning under the sun
Stand shock and silver-coated.
[Draft of the fragment ‘/ am like a slip of comet\ Poems, p, 130,1
Sept 14. Grey clouds in knops. A curious fan of this kind of cloud
radiating from a crown, and covering half the sky.
[Draft of the fragment they are come,* Poems, p, 131, Two
further variants of IL g and lo are given below. The lines ^J^ow I am
minded', Poems,/?. 131, follow them,]
you see the armed flare
Heave their unsteady columns ;
or
you see the unsteady flare
Heave through their flushing columns.
Sk and are notoriously often exchanged for sh, as bushy, bosky;
rush, ruscus. So BIokos may be same word as dish, particularly as the
ancient quoit was not a flat ring but a plate, a disc.
The sky minted into golden sequins.
Stars like gold tufts.
— — golden bees.
— — golden rowels.
Sky peak’d with tiny flames.
* MS page on which comes note on Lucretius IV, 12^, See p, 44,
47
EARLY DIARIES (1864)
Stars like tiny-spoked wheels of fire.
Lantern of night, pierced in eyelets, {or eye-lets which avoids
ambiguity.)
Altogether peak is a good word. For sunlight through shutter, locks
of hair, rays in brass knobs etc. Meadows peaked with flowers.
His gilded rowels
Now stars of blood.
SteeL^^^ Connected perhaps with urlX^eiv^ star^ Stella^ daTqp. Stella^^^
perhaps for if not, since Festus says the ancients did not double
letters, for stela which makes it nearer steel, not that I would insist
on the /, the change from r into I being made independently in the
three cases of arlX^eiv, Stella and steeL The d of dcmjp is to ease
pronunciation and often found in Greek when its introduction had
been early or even before the parting of Greek from its kindred
tongues, but the Greek tongue pronounced or, air etc easily, and
therefore d enunciative, if one may coin a word, was probably not
used except in those words into which it had got already. E is used
in the Romance tongues in same way, e.g. Esperance, estella.
[Here come three much-revised drafts of the first section of ‘A Voice
from the World\ Poems, p. 121, and drafts of the next three sections.
They take up almost the whole of eight pages of the Diary: the next
two entries come between them. The drafts on the third and fourth
pages are badly smudged. The next page has on it, longways, a very
rough sketch of a sky and horizon of {?)trees blocked in. Underneath
it is written: Blue (delicate) and dark grey. No intermediate
hues. Horizon lower. Hampstead. Sept. 23.]
Magdalen — October. Balliol — November. Corpus — March. Tri-
nity — June or earlier. Exeter — ? Lincoln? Ch. Ch. 2nd Saturday in
Lent. Merton — Spring. Brasenose — ?
Twig^^^ (pinch), tweak, twitch, twit, to give one a wigging, earwig,
wicker, twig (small branch), twist, twine, twire(?), twy, two, Svw, 8vo,
duo etc etc, tolxos, wick (of candle), oi/co?, wick (Hackney Wick etc),
wich, (Harwich etc) wig (Schleswig etc), weak, wicked.
[A dramatic fragment of 14 lines from 'Floris in Italy, beginning
* Well, I know not,' has been moved from here to the other fragments
from the same scene in the ist Diary: see p.
Letters to Aunt Fanny (?), Clara,* Plummer, Edmiston and Hobday.
48
EARLY DIARIES (1864)
Her hue ’s* a honied brovm and creamy lakes,
Like a cupp’d chestnut damasked jwithj
Fuller says a jewel is strictly a collection of gems, a work composed
of several.
Saw a curious thing on, I think, Oct i — A cloud hid the sun and its
edges were so brilliant that the lustre prevented one seeing outlines
which swam in the light. Happening to look in a pdipd, I saw the
cloud reflected and therefore with much diminution of light, of course,
and the outlines of the lighted part of the cloud were distinct and
touched here and there with spots of colours.
Androdamas (Pliny) is translated marcasite or firestone.
Nankin just 900 years ago (964) contained 4,000,000 souls, and the
walls are said to have been of such huge extent that two horsemen
riding round them and starting from same point in opposite directions
would not meet before the evening. I believe however the walls remain.
[Here comes * The cold whip-adder\ Poems, p. 132.']
Tuncks is a good name.
Gerard Manley Tuncks. Pook Tuncks.
Note. Row Ridge or Rowridgc* in Devon, pronounced Rollidge.
The ends of the crisp buds she chips
And the flower strips,
The breaking leaves of gold are curl’d upon her lips.
A pure gold lily, but by the pure gold lily
We will charge our flocks that they not feed.
Leave it with its grove hard by
‘Some are pretty enough, and some are poor indeed.’
Give us our green lots in another mead
Fit for flowers, water-pierced and rilly.
Lead shepherd, now we follow, shepherd lead.
We live to see
How Shakespeare’s England weds with Dante’s Italy.
EARLY DIARIES (1864; 49
Plutarch translates Sarmentus ZdpjjLevros and delicias SrjXiKias.
Fortunate losses of literature. Statius’ Achilleid which he died shortly
after beginning, the lost books of the Faery Queen.
Juvenal speaks of a true poet as ‘Cupidus silvarum aptusque
bibendis Fontibus Aonidum.’ VII, 58, 59.
Distinguish Induction from Example,^ Gollegation of facts and other
processes with which it has been confounded.
In Yorkshire wick == quick = alive. To jick is to kick
Austin Friars church and a large Gothic building in Bishopsgate St.
[Fair copy of the last two and a half stanzas of ^Pilate\ Poems,
p. 120,]
But if this^ overlast the day
Undone, and I must wait the year,
Yet no delay can serve to grate away
A purpose desperately dear
Butterfield’s new church^ built for £Soo on the Nine Mile Road
between Finchampstead and Ascot.
21, Beauchamp Sq., Leamington.
W. Addis. J. Strachan Davidson.**
Hasely Court, Tetsworth, Oxon.®
Greats books. Most of the following. Aristotle, Rhetoric, Ethics,
Politics. Plato, Republic. Herodotus, Thucydides, Livy^ i o books. Tacitus^
Histories or ist. 12 books of Annals. Bacon's “Novum Organon”.
Butler's Sermons or Analogy.
Foreheads of the apses.
Flying buttresses like feathers.
bringing heads of daffodillies,
Gold gallant, flowers much looked at in April weather
B 0028
50
EARLY DIARIES (1864)
Although she be more white.
More white,
Than a skeined, than a skeined waterfall,
And better veined than pea blossoms all
And though she be so light
As thin-spun whirling bats’ wings in the air etc.
Her looks more moving than the peacock’s eyes.
Cover is a good word, and row^ both verb and noun, though I
mean no connection curiously.
Spring from the branch-heads ordering the bright rows— the leaves,
chiefly of the elm
A star most spiritual, principal, preeminent 1
Of all the golden press. i
Or ever the early stirrings of skylark
Might cover the neighbour downs with a span of singing,
While Phosphor, risen upon the shallowing dark.
In the ruddied county of the day’s upbringing
Stood capital, eminent, . . . gonfalon bearer
To all the starry press. —
[Here comes ‘For a Picture of St. Dorothea,’^ Poems, p. 55. Text
as in that version, except no title here, minor variants mainly of punc-
tuation, and in 1. 4 of 3rd stanza ‘parched not’, with note below
perhaps quench6d. (Certainly)’]
T Edward Hopkins, Aunt Fanny, Towse,^ Mr
Leach, 3 Mrs. Cunliffe."
Proved Etherege' prudish, selfish, hypocrite, heartless,
No schola,r, a would be critic, a dillentante*
Cream-laid, a surface, who could quote, to startle us.
The Anatomy,^ Politian,’ a little Dante,—
And so forth. Then for his looks— like pinkish paper:®
Features? A watermark; other claims as scanty.
In such wise did the gentle . . . vapour
Architectural drawings follow, mostly of windows: not reproduced.]
Wells, Woodblock maker, Bouverie Street, Fleet Street.
Beaum ont, Arundel House, Blessington Rd, Lee, S.E.
* Thus in MS,
5 *
EARLY DIARIES (1864)
[Fragments of ^Richard\ numbered {i) and {ii) in Poems, pp.
Letter to Coleridge,* Carte^ for Oxenham.^
[Here are copied out the first six lines of the last stanza of Keats's
'‘Ode to Psyche'^ '‘Yes^ I will be thy priest^ . .
All as the moth call’d Underwing alighted,
Turning and pacing, so by slips discloses
Her sober simple coverlid underplighted
To colour as smooth and fresh as cheeks of roses,
j Her showy leaves staid watchet counterfoiling
I Her showy leaves with gentle watchet foiling
Even so my thought the rose and grey disposes
Wine merchant. Edmiston.
Letter to Wood."^
(?) December 1864
[Here follow 'The Queen's Crowning'^ Poems, p. 1^5, and the
lines 'Tomorrow meet you?' ^ Poems,/?.
Furius wrote®
Jupiter hibernas cana nive conspuit Alpcs.
Henry V. iii. v.
Rush on his host, as doth the melted snow
Upon the valleys ; whose low vassal seat
The Alps doth spit and void his rheum upon.
Notice by the way ‘the Alps doth'.
De Quincey translates
‘Nec licuit populis parvum te, Nile, videre’®
‘No license there was to the nations of earth for seeing thee,
O Nile! in a condition of infant imbecillity.’
And he ends a (rather good) essay on ‘Homer and the Homeridae’
thus — ‘And for the affirmation of that question’ (he is asserting ‘the
existence of Homer’) ‘in that interesting sense, I presume myself to
have offered perhaps more and weightier arguments than all which
any German army of infidels has yet been able to muster against it.’
52
EARLY DIARIES (1864-5)
He says of Keats* ‘Upon this mother-tongue, upon this English
language, has Keats trampled as with the hoofs of a buffalo.*
For Stephen and Barberie
— She by a sycamore,
Whose all-belated leaves yield up themselves
To the often takings of desirous winds,
Sits without consolation, marking not
The time save when her tears which still [descend]*
Her barred fingers clasp’d upon her eyes,
Shape on the under side and size and drop.
Meanwhile a litter of the jagged leaves
Lies in her lap, which she anon sweeps off.
‘This weary Martinmass, would it were summler’
I heard her say, poor poor afflicted soul, —
‘Would it were summer-time.’ Anon she sang
The country song of Willow. ‘The poor soul —
(Like me) — sat sighing by a sycamore~tree.*
Perhaps it was for this she chose the place.
[Here follow the lines "Boughs being pruned, birds preened\ printed
as Epigram (vi) in Poems, p. 130. On the opposite page is the
drawing of a capital decorated with a leaf-pattern, given Fig. 28.]
Miss Story, 2 4 Southern Hill, Reading.
The moonlight-mated glowless glowworms shine.
[Here are drafts of the last two sections of "A Voice from the World*,
Poems, pp. J26~2; and immediately following them comes the begin-
ning of a scheme of arrangement for all the sections of the poem:
(i) At last I hear the voice well-known.
(ii) Looking earthward, what see 1?
(iii) Alas! and many times alas!
(iv) I do not say you nothing need.
(y) You have the woman’s purity.
(vi) So far when mad afflictive tears.
This scheme is crossed out; new numbers {i)-{xiii) are written in the
margin, but were never used. The next entry comes between the drafts.]
A silver scarce-call-silvcr gloss
I Lighted the watery-plated leaves.
I The watery-plated plane-leaves lit.
• Conjectured: the MS is badly smudged here, but dc . . , is lisibU.
53
EARLY DIARIES (1865)
Dine with A. Spooner* on Monday.
Shapes of frozen snow-drifts. Parallel ribs. Delightful curves.
Saddles, lips, leaves.
Dc Quincy^ would wake blue and trembling in the morning and
languidly ask the servant ‘Would you pour out some of that black
mixture from the botdc there’. The servant would give it him, gene-
rally not knowing what it was. After this he would revive. This would
happen in Mr. Nicol’s house, whose son told it to W. Addis who
told me.
De Q,. borrowed two valuable books of him and always excused
himself from sending them back, though several times asked. He
wrote that his library was in such confusion that he could not lay
his hand on them, and so on. At last Mr. N. wrote to De Q.’s
daughter who replied that she had done her best, but the truth was
her father had for two days been sitting on them and at night took
them to his room and put them under his pillow.
Breakfast with Addis on Tuesday.
Dine with Wood tomorrow, Sunday, Name off hall.
Greek History. Herodotus. Newman.^
Monday and Friday, at 1 1 .
Palmer noticed in his sermon yesterday (Jan. 29.) that our language
with respect to character is that of morality, not of religion ; we say
virtue not holiness^ crime not sin,
Latin weather-proverb.
Si sol splendescat Maria purificante,
Major erit glacies post festum quam fuit ante.
Breakfast with Lake^ on Thursday.
Letters to Mr. Leach, Towse, Frederica,
The Epistles. Jowett.
Tuesday and Thursday at 10.
Plato’s Republic. Jowett.
Tuesday and Thursday at i.
54
EARLY DIARIES (1865)
Stallbaum’s Plato.
Aristotle’s Ethics. Wall.'
Monday, Wednesday, and Friday at 10.
Liddon^ not coming up next Sunday.
R. Reid Esqre, Crescent Villa, Park Town.
To call on him and Burrows. Saturday ?
Aristotle’s Ethics, but what edition ?
F.I.C .3 on Monday night, 7.30. Sanday’s^ new rooms.
New-covering armchair. New armchair?
P .O.O.s for Wine merchants and Mrs. Leach.
Sharpe’s and M. Arnold’s articles in the National.®
Englishman's Magazm Nos. i and 2.^ Article on the Grotesai
what? ^
Union subscription.
Wine with Muirhead on Thursday.
I hear a noise of waters drawn away,
And, headed always downwards, with less sounding
Work through a cov'cr’d copse whose hollow rounding
Rather to ear than eye shews where they stray,
Making them double-musical. And they
Low-cwerecl pass, and brace the woodland clods
With shinmg-hilted curves, that thev mav stay
The bluebells up whose crystal-ending rods
in their natural sods.
a standing fell
Of hyacinths .
And pledged purply in a half-lit dell.
The dented primrose. Slight-edged.
55
EARLY DIARIES (1865)
Noted with primroses.
Delicious shine — of bluebells.
and then as thick as fast
The crystal-ended hyacinths blow.
The dented primrose and bead-budded may.
Statuettes for brackets. Putting up brackets, green, or green and
purple silk or cloth backs for them, with cardboard : but how? Should
not I write home for them ? Brass-headed nails. Red cord. Arranging
pictures.
Walk with Liddon on Tuesday. But how about Jowett’s lecture?
To breakfast with me on Thursday, Urquhart,* Muirhead, Marshall,
Madan. To ask Whitaker,^ Hood,^ Addis, Plummer, Macfarlane,
Wood, No not Hood and Whitaker.
Baillie, Grose, Geldart,^ Lyall, Hardy for the Memorial.
Philps, 9 Orchard St., Fra Bartolommeo’s portrait of Savonarola.^
Breakfast with Fylfe*^ on Wednesday.
Breakfast with Macfarlane on Monday.
Dolben’s® carte.
Waistcoat.
In more precision now of light and dark
The heightening dawn with milky orience
Rounds its still-purpling centreings of cloud.
Now more precisely touched in light and gloom,
The place of the east with earliest milky morn
Rounds its still-purpling centre-darks of cloud.
Dawn that the pebbly low-down East
Covers with shallow silver, that unsets
The lock of clouds betimes and hangs the day.
5 ^
EARLY DIARIES (1865)
Dawn that the low-down pebbly East
Covers with shallow silver, the lock of clouds
That early ’sperses, and high hangs the day.
When eyes that cast about in heights of heaven
To canvass the retirement of the lark
(Because the music from his bill forth-driven
So takes the sister sense) can find no mark,
But many a silver visionary spark
Springs in the floating air and the skies swim, —
Then often the ears in a new fashion hark.
Beside them, about the hedges, hearing him : j
At last the bird is found a flickering shape and ^im.
At once the senses give the music back,
I The proper sweet re-attributing above.
I That sweetness re-attributing above. —
February-March 1865
Whorled wave, whelkfed wave, — and drift.
Books to be read — Bacon’s essays; Browning’s Paracelsus \ The
Apocryphal New Testament; King Henry V, VI (part i, ii, and iii),
Richard 111 , and Henry VIII; Wordsworth; The Spiritual Combat;^
Villari’s^ Life of Savonarola, volii; Beresford Hope’s English Cathedral^ ;
E. B. Denison’s^ book on church-restoring or something of the kind ;
Le Morte Arthur ; Tracts for the Times ; Essays and Reviews ^ ; Sakoontala^ ; the
life of Lacordaire^ ; Matthew Arnold’s Essays ; Hain Friswell’s Life-
portraits of Shakspere ^ ; Modern Painters ; The Newcomes ; Dombey and Son ;
Our Mutual Friend ; The Story of Elizabeth ^ ; Silas Mamet ; The Mill on
the Floss; Emilia'^ in England
[Here follows ‘ The Summer Malison\ Poems, p, /^/,]
In The Times of today (March 2, 1865) it is said that some prisoners
belonging to the Old Papal States were brought to Rome according
to the French extradition treaty. Some were political, and one had
been 15 years and 5 months in prison without a sentence.
Wootton Church" just restored by Butterfield.
I * *Emilia\ but is continued y pages later in the MS (see p, 6o): *in Eng-
tana has been moved back from there.
57
EARLY DIARIES (1865)
Spent. Not accounted for id. Beggar id. Gill and Ward’s bill —
I os. Book for Mamma — 6s. Mending stick — 6d. Offertory — 2s.
Crocus-candles yellow and white.
Notes for poetry. Feathery rows of young corn. Ruddy, furred and
branchy tops of the elms backed by rolling cloud.
Frieze of sculpture, long-membered vines tugged at by reaching
pursuant fauns, and lilies.
Owed to Addis 6d.
Pure fasted faces* draw unto this feast,
God comes all sweetness to your Lenten lips.
Come, striped in secret with breath-taking whips.
Those rough-scored crookM chequers may be pieced
To crosses meant for Jesu’s. Ye whom the East
With draught of thin and pursuant cold so nips,
Breathe Easter now ; you serghd fellowships.
You vigil-keepers with low flames decreased,
God shall oerbrim the measures you have spent
With oil and gladness, for sackcloth and frieze
The ever-fretting shirt of punishment,
Give golden myrrhy-threaded folds of ease,
And, since your scarce-sheathed bones grow weary bent
With prayer, shall strengthen all the feeble knees.
or
Give myrrhy-threaded golden folds of ease :
Your scarce-sheathed bones are tired of being bent ;
Lo God shall strengthen all the feeble knees.
[Variants cancelled in MS are given below J]
L 3. Come, scored in secret . . .
//, 3-6, You whom the pursuant cold so wastes and nips,
L 12. Give fragrant-threaded
change of fragrant-threaded gold raiment,
Give gladden* fold of fragrant-threaded ease
fragrant-threaded folds of ease,
From any hedgerow, any copse,
Bring me palm with pearled knops,
And primrose bring, and make a sheaf
With his pull’d and plotted leaf.
* This seems to be the readings possibly written over golden.
58 EARLY DIARIES (1865)
Orchards in Spring, branch-pierced fleeces.
O Death, Death, He is come.
O grounds of Hell make room.
Who came from further than the stars
Now comes as low beneath.
Thy ribbed ports, O Death
Make wide ; — ^Thou, O Lord of Sin,
Lay open thine estates.
I.iift up your heads, O Gates ;
Be ye lift up, ye everlasting doors
The King of Glory will come in.
A. A basket broad* of woven white rods
I have fill’d, that hard to fill is.
With the multitude of the lily-buds
Of the brakes of lilies.
B. And T come laden from such floods
Of flowers that counting closes.
With the warm'd and the water’d buds
Of the press of roses.
March 12 . A day of the great mercy of God.*
Addis says my arguments are coloured and lose their value by
personal feeling. This ought to be repressed.
Addis’ debt, I mean debt to Addis, 6d.
Hexamcron^ subscription — is. Kidlington — is. Beggar — id.
Cyril’s present and letter. Pencil, Drawing.
Palms dotted with silver.
The sun just risen
Flares his wet brilliance in the dintless heaven.
His shaking eye.
The moon glassy,
[Here comes the translation of the Greek epigram, *Love me as I
love thee\ Poems, p, iy8.]
EARLY DIARIES (1865)
The 6d. — Miss Lloyd,* — Letter to Urquhart.
59
9, Binswood Terrace, Leamington, Warwickshire. — ^A. Wood.
I confessed on Saturday, Lady Day, March 25.*
To ask about lay baptism (in the Tract.) About justification etc.
About betting. About mortification.
Liddon’s tracts. The testimonial. Necktie. Boots.
Cripps’ bill.
Letter to Harrison.
4, Rose Hill, Bowden, Manchester. — E. M. Geldart.
Butterfield has restored Ottery St. Mary church*^ for John Duke
Coleridge, and painted his drawing-room, whom he knows. Bill high.
IS. entrance to lecture.
I was wrong about Merton.^ The sexton says the font, with its cover
and bracket, the reredos, the choir-screen, gates and metal-work,
everything in fact except the pulpit were designed by Butterfield. The
quatrefoils etc in the stalls at first to have been open. Of the sedilia only
the two first bays, that is a w’alled-up door and a narrow arch, and the
spring of the next arch are old : the rest was razed to the level of the
wall and blocked up by the monument now placed in the bay of
the intended S. aisle. All but the parts named above therefore are by
Butterfield, carefully following out the old work. The tiling is by him
too. In the same way the font and other things are in keeping. There
was once much more ornament (fleurs-de-lys etc) in the red altar-
cloth which was taken away by order of the college. The altar-piece
is by Tintoret. The transept-roof also must be by Butterfield.
Letters to papa,® Aunt Annie,^ Aunt Katie.^ — Boots, red chalk,
necktie, — Letter to Urquhart. — ^Gerald.
I have promised Lake a half-crown subscription.
When cuckoo calls and I may hear,
And thrice and four times and again.
6o
EARLY DIARIES (1865)
Massie’s books at Union.
Grimm’s Life of Michael Angelo* ; The Divine Master Dean
Goode’s Validity^ of Non~Episcopal Ordination; Aitkcn’s Teaching of
the Types^; Dr. Puscy® on Daniel; and his sermon on Everlasting
Punishment, and on the Remedy for Sins of the body; The Bp. of
Brechin’s defence;® Shairp^ in the North British on Wordsworth;
article in the Christian Remembrancer on Filioque^ and on the In-
vocation of the Holy Ghost in The Holy Communion ; another in, I
think, The National on The Grotesque’ etc
Butterfield built Lavington church*’ in Sussex (where, Apr i 7, Mr.
Cobden was buried), and the Parsonage house, I believe.
Mrs Holland, 15. Upper Harley St. W. Easter Tuesday, 7 b’clock.
Little book for sins. Necktie. Boots to see after. Slippers? Bath.
Letters to Aunt Annie, Aunt Katie, Geldart. Trousers.
Burges’ and Gambier Parry’s Papers at the Bristol Congress.*
Oxford Poets. — Southey (Balliol), Shelley (University), John Wil-
son*^ (Magdalen), Milman*^ (Brasenose), Walter Savage Landor
(Trinity), Bowles*^ (Trinity), William Morris (Ch. Ch.), Dixon
(Pembroke), Keble, J, H. Newman.
D.A.S. MackworthDolben,* 5 Rcvd. C. Pritchard,*® South Luffen-
hftnij Leicester*
[April 24, 186^. Here follows the sonnet ^ Where art thou ffiend\^’^
Poems, p, 2g, Two earlier readings are given below,]
1 3. Either unknown to me in the age that is
I- 14- No, no, no, but for Christ who knew and loved thee
Bellisle! that is a fabling name, but we
Have here a true one, echoing the sound ;
And one to each of us is holy ground ;
But let me sing that which is known to me.
Confirmed beauty will not bear a stress ;
Bright hues long look’d at thin, dissolve and fly :
EARLY DIARIES (1865) 61
Who lies on grass and pores upon the sky
Shall see the azure turn [ — —
And Tantalean slaty ashiness
Like Pharaoh’s ears of windy harvest dry|
Dry up the blue and be not slaked thereby.
Ah ! surely all who have written will profess
The sweetest sonnet five or six times read
Is tasteless nothing : and in my degree
I prove it. What then when these lines are dead
And coldly do belie the thought of thee?
I’ll lay them by, and freshly turn instead
To thy not-staled uncharted memory.
Where is it?^ book. Lectures on Shrubs of the Ancients^ Monday and
Tuesday at 2. Papa’s translation, letter to him, money for battels,
photographs. Union subscription. To pay for Where is it? book and
photograph.
Wild vine, bryony (d/x7r. XcvKrj)^ etc included in clematis.
Ovid seems to call clematis vitis alba.
Hibiscus, mallow, dAOaia (Diosc.^)
Currant or Corinthian grape called vitis
TTTiyavov^ ruta, rue.
Paliurus
Spina alba, whitethorn.
Rhamnus used by the poets for e.g. hawthorn.
Mastich-tree, Pistacia terebinthus (and Lentiscus?)
acTrdXados (Diosc.* ** and prob. Theoc,), spartium villosum found in
Greece and Sicily.
Genista, Spartium junceum.
Cytisus, medicago arborea.
Coronilla, two kinds shrubby.
Lotus, L. doricnium the only shrubby kind. Rhamnus Lotus, that
of the AwTOff>ayoi.^
Acacia often called acanthus, though not indigenous to Italy.
Rubus Idaeus, raspberry ; r. fruticosus, blackberry, called jSdroj.
Prunus spinosa (sloe), oTroStaj.
Cydonia mala, quince.
Ebulus, elder(?).
/cAu/icvov, 7T€pucXvfi€voVf kinds of convolvulus.
* MS badly smudged'. (J)two words illegible.
t /. 6 follows 1. 7 in MS; but GMH marked the two lines to be transposed.
62
EARLY DIARIES (1865)
Heaths. ipiK-q^ Myrica, heather.
Rhododendron. Pliny makes it = venereum.
The dangerous plant of Xenophon prob. Azalea Pontica.
Ligustrum, privet, but perhaps not so in V.
AfiapaKos, aapilfvx,^ marjoram.
Laurus, incl. laurustinus, Apollo’s laurel, the bay, Daphne
[May 6, i86§. Early drafts of the three sonnets^ ‘ The Beginning of
the End" Poems, pp. 30-31, After the first comes the fragment
given below,]
i
Some men may hate their rivals and desire (
Secretive moats,^ knives, smothering-cloths, drugs, flime ;
But I am so consumed with my shame
I dare feel envy scarcely, never ire.
O worshipful the man that she sets higher
[May jj. Here follows '‘The Alchemist in the City", Poems, p, 31,]
Walk from Bicester to Islip.^
Mrs. Edward Hopkins,^ 7 Palace Gardens Terrace, Kensington.
The cuckoo’s second note sounds nearer than his fiist.
Point-feather elms.
But what indeed is ask’d of me ?
Not this. Some spirits, it is told,
Have will’d to be disparadised
For love and greater glory of Christ.
But I was ignorantly bold
To dream I dared so much for thee.
This was not ask’d, but what instead?
Waking I thought ; and it sufficed :
My hopes and my unworthiness,
At once perceived, with excess
Of burden came and bow’d my head.
Yea, crush’d my heart, and made me dumb,
I thought : Before I gather strength
Cheques should not be kept too long. If it is to A’s order, A must
write his name across the back of it in sending it to anyone else to get
paid, and it is well then to draw two parallel lines across the face of it
EARLY DIARIES (1865) 63
and write the name of the bankers and the person you send it to to
get paid, so that no one else can use it if lost.
[Here is copied into the Diary John Clarets poem 7 am! yet what
I am who cares or knows?" as ‘Quoted in the Spectator".]
Pencil 3d. Oriel photo. 6d. Michell’s poem is.* Cripps’ bill £i 14s.
Harris’ bill 2s. Share in cab is. 6d. Ticket ns. Telegram is. Porter
5s. Messenger 5s. Scout £2.
[June 24. Drafts of the sonnet ^Myself unholy, from myself unholy" ,
Poems, p. 33. Cancelled variants are given below.]
I 4 .
/. 7.
//. 9-14.
White clouds to furnace-eaten regions coaly :
( And so my trust confusedly is shook.
— - — confidence is struck and shook.
He has a fault of mine, he its near brother,
I And part I like and part I hate the fall ;
[ — — is sweet to me and part is gall ;
In him this fault I found, in him another:
And though they each have one and I have all.
This time it serves not. I can seek no other
Than Christ : to Christ I look, on Christ I call.
[Here follow copies of the two so7inets ^To Oxford. Low Sunday
and Monday, i86f, Poems, pp. 33-34, and the revised version of
^Easter Communion", dated ^Lent, 1863", Poems,/?. 33. Above them is
written: The two following sonnets were sent to Addis, also
that on Easter Communion, but I have now only the rough
copies of the first two, which are not quite right. Then comes
a third incomplete so fine t ‘ To Oxford", given to V. S. S, Coles, and
printed below. Immediately after it comes ^See how Spring opens
with disabling cold", dated June 26, Poems, p. 35. ]
Given to Coles.^
TO OXFORD.
As Devonshire letters, earlier in the year
Than we in the East dare look for buds, disclose
Smells that are sweeter-memoried than the rose.
And pressed violets in the folds appear,
So is it with my friends, I note, to hear
News from Belleisle, even such a sweetness blows
(I know it, knowing not) across from those
Meadows to them inexplicably dear.
64
EARLY DIARIES (1865)
‘As when a soul laments, which hath been blest’ —
ril cite no further what the initiate know.
I never saw those fields whereon their best
And undivulgW love does overflow.
The last two lines I have forgotten and must get.
Continuation of R. Garnet’s Nix,^
She mark’d where I and Fabian met ;
Slie loves his face, she knows the spot ;
And there she waits with locks unwet j
For Fabian that suspects her not.
I see her riving fingers tear
A branch of walnut leaves, and that '
More sweetly shades her stolen hair
Than fan or hood or strawy plait.
He sees her, O but he must miss
A something in her face of guile.
And relish not her loveless kiss
And wonder at her shallow smile.
or And half mislike her loveless kiss.
Ah no ! and she who sits beside
Bids him this way his gazes fix.
Then she seems sweet who seems his bride,
She sour who seems the slighted Nix.
or Then sweetest seems the seeming bride
When maddest looks the slighted Nix.
I know of the bored and bitten rocks
Not so far outward in the sea ;
There lives the witch shall win my locks
And my blue eyes again for me.
Alas ! but I am all at fault,
Nor locks nor eyes shall win again.
I dare not taste the thickening salt,
I cannot meet the swallowing main.
Or if I go, she stays meanwhile,
Who means to wed or means to kill,
And speeds uncheck’d her murderous guile
Or wholly winds him to her will.
65
EARLY DIARIES (1865)
Viol-headed, lute-headed, trees.
[Fragments of ^Richard\ numbered (Hi) and (iv) in Poems,
PP‘ ^ 5 ^ 5 -]
Mems. The opposite sunset. The barrow clouds. The valves. The
rail. Mallowy. Peace. Valved eyes. Bats’ wings and images. Lobes of
leaf. Theory of trees. Temper in art.
He shook with racing notes the standing air,
[A page, probably containing a ist attempt at the sketch two pages
later, is here cut out of the Diary: Blue with rosy clouds written
across the top.^
Or try with eyesight to divide
One star out from the daylight air,
And find it will not be descried
Because its place is charted there.
or
But only try with eyesight to divide
One star by daylight from the strong blue air,
And find it will not therefore be descried
Because its place is known and charted there.
Castara Victrix or Casiara Felix, Silvian, the king, and his two sons
Areas and Valerian, Garindel. The fool. Carabella. Pirellia. Piers
Sweetgate. Daphnis. Daphne.
The melancholy Daphnis doats on him.
Fan sunrise. The knitted brook. Scene in Floris in Italy,
Sunset yesterday (Aug, 4) over Dartmoor, useful places.
[On the next two pages of the note-book are two very slight sketches,
longways on the page, of a sunset with clouds, not reproduced. Above
the first is written Blue with rosy clouds; in the middle, left to
right, Purplish grey, Greyish blue, Salmon web-work or net-
work, Green under the red; in the bottom right corner, above the
word *Horizon\ Pale purple clouds with mysterious rosy edges,
the coming between of which caused the spokes of light on the
cloud above; underneath. Sunset, July 20, copied from a
rougher drawing made at the time on the torn out page.
Above the lower sketch is written On a smaller scale thus; and
underneath: The clouds in the horizon caused the spokes. It
B 6628
F
66
EARLY DIARIES (1865)
was a wonderfully symmetrical band or skein of cloud on
which they fell. Unfortunately I cannot be quite sure which
is the dark and which the light part now. One of the most
remarkable I ever saw. The Dugmores* were much struck
with it.]
Sunrise at Chagford.* There was a remarkable fan of clouds traced
in fine horizontals, which afterwards lost their levels, some becoming
oblique. Below appearing bright streaks which crowded up one after
another, A white mist in the churchyard, trees ghostly in it.
Sunset here also. Over the nearest ridge of Dartmoor.; Sky orange,
trail of Bronze-lit clouds, stars and streak of brilliant electrum under-
neath, but not for this, but effect of dark intensified foreground. Long
rounded ridge of Dartmoor deep purple, then trees on thelciescending
hill, and a field with an angle so that the upper level was lighter green
the lower darker, then a purplish great brown field, then the manu-
factory with grey white timbers (it is built of wood) and grey
shingle (?) roofs.
Grey sky at Hampstead lately. Clouds showing beautiful and rare
curves like curds, comparable to barrows, arranged of course in
parallels.
Rain railing off something.
The butterfly perching in a cindery dusty road and pinching his
scarlet valves. Or wagging, one might say. And also valvcd eyes'.
Mallowy red of sunset and sunrise clouds.
A noise of falls I am possessed by
(Of streams; and clouds like mesh’d and parted moss
I Of water. Clouds like parted moss
Attain the windy levels of the sky
Which between ash-tops suffers loss
Of its concavity.
O what a silence is this wilderness!
Might we not think the sweet(?) and daring rises
Of the flown skylark, and that traverse flight
At highest when he seems to brush the clouds,
Had been more fertile and had sown with notes
The unenduring fallows of the heaven ?
Or take it thus — that the concording stars
Had let such music down without impediment
• nu mu contiims longways on the jmgt below the and skeUL
67
EARLY DIARIES (1865)
Falling along the breakless pool of air,
^As struck with rings of sound the close-shut palms
Of the wood-sorrel and all things sensitive?
^As might have struck and shook the close-shut palms.
or* * * § Had been effectual to have sown with notes
A. As the wood-sorrel and all things sensitive
That thrive in the loamy greenness of this place ?
B. What spirit is that makes stillness obsolete
With ear-caressing speech? Where is the tongue
Which drives the stony air to utterance ? —
Who is it ? how come to this forgotten land ?
Brush and comb (how vastly absurd it is!) both apply to
. . t of water ribs
Sprigged white on breast of an iron-grey [horsej]
Mealy clouds in circles over the sky with a moon.
Mothers are doubtless happier for their babes
And risen sons : yet are the childless free
From tears shed over children’s graves.
So those who . . .§ of Thee
Take their peculiar thorns and natural pain
Among the lilies and thy good domain.
Ash clusters like grapes.
Water rushing over a sunken stone and hollowing itself to rise again
seems to be devoured by the wave before which it forces up,
Reverted, with thrown-back and tossing cape.
Bossy water, bosses.
Oak roots are silvery, smooth, solid and muscular.
Glazed water vaulted o’er a drowsy stone.
Rainbow almost invisible when looked at with one eye. Cf. what
they say about the telescope.
* This and the next eniry have been transposed from 4 entries later, as clearly belonging
to the fragment they now follow.
t The MS is badly smudged here, and the words are illegible,
t Veiy faint: word conjectural.
§ Illegible: one word written over another.
68
EARLY DIARIES (1865)
September i. 1865
Daphne.
Who loves me here and has my love,
I think he will not tire of me,
But sing contented as the dove
That comes again to the woodland tree.
He shall have summer sweets and dress
His pleasure to the changing clime, /
And I can teach him happiness
That shall not fail in winter-time. \
or He shall have summer goods and trim i
His pleasure to the changing clime, \
And I shall know of sweets for him \
That are not less in winter-time.
His cap shall be shining fur,
And stained, and knots of golden thread,
He shall be warm with miniver
Lined all with silk of juicy red.
In spring our river-banks are topt
With yellow flags will suit his brow,
In summer are our orchards knopt
With green-while apples on the bough.
But if I cannot tempt his thought
With wealth that mocks his high degree,
The shepherds, whom I value not,
Have told me I am fair to see.
For Castor a.
Scene: a bare hollow between hills. Enter Castara and her Esquire
C. What was it we should strike the road again ?
E. There was a wood of dwarf and soured oaks
Crept all along a hill upon our left,
A wander in the country, and a landmark
They said we could not miss. A pushing brook
Ran through it, following which we should have sight
Of mile-long reaches of our road below us.
My thought was, there to rest against the trees
And watch until our horses and the men
Circled the safe flanks of the bulky hills.
69
EARLY DIARIES (1865)
C, And how long was the way?
E. This shorter way ?
Three miles indeed.
C. We have come four, do you think?
Somewhere we slipt astray, you cannot doubt.
E. True, madam. I am sorry now to see
I better’d all our path with sanguine eyes.
For Castara,
At the picnic or whatever we call it, Daphnis^ Castara,
D, — Can I do any harm ?
C, If you are silent, that I know of, none.
D, 111 meant, yet true. I best should flatter then.
In copying well what you have best begun.
C. In copying? how?
D. Must I give tongue again?
In copying your sweet silence.
C, Am I so
Guilty of silence ?
D. Quite, as ladies go.
Yet what you are, the world would say, remain :
It never yet so sweetly was put on
By any lauded statue, nor again
By speech so sweetly broken up and gone.
C, What if I hated flattery ?
D, Say you do :
The hatred comes with a good grace from you :
Flattery’s all out of place where praise is true.
Valerian^ Daphnis,
V. Come, Daphnis.
D, Good Valerian, I will come. {Exit V,
Why should I go because Castara goes ?
I do not, but to please Valerian.
But why then should Castara weigh with me?
Why, there’s an interest and sweet soul in beauty
Which makes us eye-attentive to the eye
That has it ; and she is fairer than Colomb,
Selvaggia, Orinda, and Adela, and the rest.
Fairer? These are the flaring shows unlovely
That make my eyes sore and cross-colour things
With fickle spots of sadness ; accessories
70
EARLY DIARIES (1865)
I Familiar and so hated by the sick;
I Hated and too familiar to ;
These are my very text of discontent;
These names, these faces? They are customary
And kindred to my lamentable days,
Of which I say there is no joy in them.
To these Castara is rain or breeze or spring,
- dew, is dawn, is day.
Shot lightning to the stifling lid of night
Bright-lifted with a little-lasting smile
Of breath upon it. That is, her face is this.
And if it is why there is cause enough
To say I go because Castara goes.
Yet Td not say it is her face alone
That this is true of: ’tis Castara’s self;
But this distemper’d court will change it all : —
Which says at least then go while all is fresh, —
Much cause to go because Castara goes.
[September 7. Here follow "My prayers must meet a brazen
heaven\ Poems, p, 36; drafts of the fragment from "Floris in
Italy\ Poems, pp, 142-4; and the fragment of the sonnet "Shakspere\
Poems, p. 144, Before "Floris in half come the four lines given
below, to continue the first draft of the speech begun on 23 July
{seep, 63),]
After ‘Because its place is known and charted there.’
My love in lists of loves I would not find,
Much less all love in one conscribed spot.
Though true love is by narrowest bands confined,
New love is free love, or true love ’tis not.
Edw^d the Confessor had a vision,* F. G. Lee’s sermon in the second
sermons quoted in the UnionR. says, that England
should be afflicted and not restored to God’s mercy till ‘a green tree
cut down from the root, and removed three furlongs distant from its
own stock, should, without the help of any man’s hand, return to its
own rwt apm, and bring forth fruit and flourish.’ This is recounted
in the Salisbury Breviary. Taking 1525 as the date of the Reformation
and a furlong as 125 years, that is the 8th of 1000 years which might
weU stand for a mile, three furlongs would = 375 years and bring
tne date ol reunion to 1900.
EARLY DIARIES (1865-6) 71
Mem. The view from the fields with psychological value. The sunset.
[Here come the lines ‘ Trees by their yield\ Poems, pp, 144-5;
written above them: A verse or more has to be prefixed. Between
them and the next entry is copied out in full Newman^ s ^Lsad,
kindly light\']
Note that if ever I should leave the English Church the fact of
Provost Fortescue^ (Oct. 16 and 18, 1865) is to be got over.
[Here follow the sonnet ^Let me be to Thee as the circling bird'' and
‘ The Half-way House', Poems, p. 57.]
Peyrat^
‘Les R6formateurs avant La Reformation.’*
Nov. 6. On this day^ by God’s grace I resolved to give up all beauty
until I had His leave for it ; — also Dolben’s letter came for which
Glory to God.
A. Wood, Elie, Fifeshire.
I confessed to Dr. Pusey Dec. 16, 1865.
Ernest Geldart^ Esqre, 4, Robert Street, Hampstead Road, N.W.
W. Addis, Mrs. Shepherd, Alma Road, Junction Road, Upper
Holloway.
[Here come the poems ^Moonless darkness stands between' and * The
earth and heaven, so little knowti'. Poems, pp, i46--y,'\
Leading topics of Dr. Pusey’s recent work reviewed in a letter to
Archbp. Manning, by Fred. Oakley.^ Longmans.
Katie, ^ age 9. (Jan. 8, 1866.)
As it fell upon a day
There was a lady very gay,
She was dressed in silk attire
For all to see and to admire.
But the boatman on the green
Told of the wonders he had seen.
* In another hand.
72
EARLY DIARIES (l866)
In the staring darkness
I can hear the harshness
Of the cold wind blowing,
I am warmly clad,
And I’m very glad
That I’ve got a home.
Grace* (8). (same day.)
The stars were packed so close that night
'Fhcy seemed to press and stare
And gather in like hurdles bright
The liberties of air.
January 23. 1866^ \
For Lent. No pudding on Sundays. No tea except if to keep me
awake and then without sugar. Meat only once a day. No verses in
Passion Week or on Fridays. No lunch or meat on Fridays. Not to sit
in armchair except can work in no other way. Ash Wednesday and
Good Friday bread and water.
Drops of rain hanging on rails etc seen with only the lower rim
lighted like nails (of fingei s). Screw's of brooks and twines. Soft chalky
look with more sliadowy middles of the globes of cloud on a night
with a moon faint or (uncealed. Mealy clouds with a not brilliant
moon. Blunt buds of the ash. Pencil buds of the beech. Lobes of the
trees. Cups of the eyes. Gathering back the lightly hinged eyelids.
Bows of the eyelids. Pencil of eyelashes. Juices of the eyeball. Eyelids
like leaves, petals, caps, tufted hats, handkerchiefs, sleeves, gloves.
Also of the bones sleeved in flesh. Juices of the sunrise. Joins and veins
of the same. Vermilion look of the hand held against a candle with the
darker parts as the middles of the fingers and especially the knuckles
covered with ash.
A. Wood, 62. N. Marine Parade, Scarborough.
E. R. Wharton,^ The Parsonage, Ghideock near Bridport, Dorset.
73
EARLY DIARIES (l866)
Coincidence from a correspondent of the Pall Mall Gazette, Louis
Philippe ascended the throne in
1830
I
7
7
3
1848
X
CTK-
1830
1
7
8
2
1848
when he abdicated.
1830
1
8
o
9
184.8
Louis Napoleon became emperor in 1852.
1852
1852
1
8
o
8
i86q
s
o' 5
1869
when?*
p
erq
o
1852
I
8
5
3
1869
Revd. R. W. Dixon, i Albert Street, Carlisle. He has written also
Historical Odes,
[On the back of this page, in the top-left corner, is a small drawing
of pari of a column with a leaf design, given Fig, 2 g,^
ON THE SIGNS OF HEALTH AND DECAY
IN THE ARTS
[An essay written for the Master of Balliol [?)i 864 \
The enquiry here put forward will be best answered by considering
what are the lawful objects of Art ; and we may then conclude that as
Art aims at these or passes them by, as it reaches or fails of them,
wholly or in part, so will it be successful or the reverse. These objects
are Truth and Beauty. Art differs from Nature in presenting Truth ;
Nature presents only Beauty ; and from the unartificial employijnents
and studies of men, not as presenting Truth or Beauty, — for a prose
account may be more literally true than a poetic, and unconscious
expression, the utterances of passion, and other things, may have ipore
beauty than much found among works of art, — but as aiming at ttese
two things, as making them not incidental but final. \
Truth and Beauty then are the ends of Art : but wfien this is said it
may be added that Truth itself is reducible probably to the head of
Beauty. This will be more plainly seen from a survey of the original
cause of our sense of the beautiful. The steps by which this original cause
is reached are too many to be taken, within the bounds of an essay. It
is enough to say that it is believed this cause is comparison, the appre-
hension of the presence of more than one thing, and that it is insepa-
rable in a higher or lower degree from thought. We may perhaps make
four degrees or dimensions of it, of which each, as in mathematics, exists
and is implied in the dimension above it; these will be those drawn
from the comparison (i), of existence with non-existence, of the con-
ception of a thing with the foimer absence of the conception ; — this is
an inseparable accident of all thought; (ii), of a thing with itself so as
to see in it the continuance of law, in which is implied the comparison of
continuance of law with non-continuance; instances of this kind are a
straight line or a circle ; (iii) of tw'^o or more things together, so as to
include the principles of Dualism, Plurality, Repetition, Parallelism,
and Variety, Contrast, Antithesis; (iv) of finite with infinite things,
which can only be done by suggestion ; this is the apxh the Sugges-
tive, the Picturesque and the Sublime. Art is concerned with the last
two of these classes ; sometimes with the third, sometimes with both
the third and fourth. The pleasure given by the presence of Truth in
Art may, if the classification above be rightly made, be referred to the
third head. It lies in a (not sensuous but purely intellectual) compari-
son of the representation in Art with the memory of the true thing ;
and the truer it is, the more exact the parallel between the two, the
HEALTH AND DECAY IN THE ARTS
75
more pleasure is perceived, thus fulfilling the condition of the prin-
ciple of parallelism given above ; only it must be remembered that
this kind of beauty however inseparable from a work of art is extrinsic
and is implied in the spectator, not given, not intrinsic, as the delibe-
rate beauty of composition, form, melody etc. Truth is not absolutely
necessary for Art ; the pursuit of deliberate Beauty alone is enough to
constitute and employ an art; as for instance such lower arts as those
of making arabesques, diapers etc need neither imitate Nature nor
express anything beyond the beauty appreciable not by the intellect,
so to speak, but by the senses, that is in fact, by the intellect employed
upon the object of the sense alone and not referring back or perform-
ing some wider act within itself. But of beauty in the stricter sense,
deliberate beauty of the third head (that is, the beauty of finite things)
if the principle is, as given above, comparison, the enforcement of
likeness and unlikeness, the establishment of relation, then it is plain
that in some cases likeness may be enforced between things unduly
differing, contrast made between things unduly near, relations estab-
lished at wrong distances, and that in either case, in one or other of the
many forms of failure, — monotony or extravagance or some other, —
pain will result : it is plain also that between these lies a golden mean
at which comparison, contrast, the enforcement of likeness, is just and
pleasurable. And this is reached by proportion. Now though this
golden mean must be reached by intuition, and that success in doing
so is the production of beauty and is the power of genius, it is not the
less true that science is or might be concerned in it as well : sufficient
proof of this may be had from the consideration of two provinces of
Art in which proportion has more or less a scientific ground and
character. These are music and architecture. Science need not inter-
fere with genius; it does not interfere with the fame of the great
harmonists, nor with that of the great proportionalist architects of
Greece. It is impossible to apply science so exact to the arts of painting
and still less of poetry as we do to those of music and architecture, but
some scientific basis of aesthetical criticism is absolutely needed;
criticism cannot advance far without it ; and at the beginning of any
science of aesthetics must stand the analysis of the nature of Beauty.
In inquiring what are the signs of a healthy and a decadent Art we
must first know what Art ought to be doing and pursuing. It remains
only to apply the convenient phraseology to the principles above
stated ; that is the word Realism to the pursuit of Truth in Art, Idea-
lism to that of deliberate Beauty. Besides this old division a new one
should be made which is much needed to express two kinds of Beauty.
Proportion having been found to be the source or the seat of Beauty,
it will appear that accordingly as proportion is expressed is the charac-
ter of tlie beauty which follows from it. And it can be expressed in two
EARLY NOTE-BOOKS
76
ways, by interval or by continuance. Both seem really to be expressions
of proportion, though it is generally associated with the former, to our
ideas. The division then is of abrupt and gradual, of parallelistic and
continuous, of intervallary and chromatic, of quantitative and qualita-
tive beauty. The beauty of an infinite curve is chromatic, of a system
of curves parallelistic ; of deepening colour or of a passing from one
colour into another chromatic, of a collocation of colours intervallary ;
of the change of note on the string of a violin or in a strain of wind
chromatic, of that on the keys of a piano intervallary. Art of course
combines the two kinds of beauty ; some arts have more of the one,
some of the other. And the distinction is important in treating of Art
generally, because the difference of aesthetic temper between age and
age or nation and nation or artist and artist may often lie in tl^ pre-
ponderance of one of these two kinds over the other. Thus to tike an
instance, Greek architecture is rather of the quantitative or Inter-
vallary kind, Teutonic of the qualitative or chromatic ; or humour is
chromatic, wit abrupt, intervallary ; (Dr. Newman’s style is chromatic,
Carlyle’s the opposite;) and the drama is more chromatic than
lyrical poetry, at least as far as diction is concerned.*
{Continued,)
Some such grounds as these must be supposed for Art criticism : the
subject is as yet little worked out for all trustworthy results ; but what-
ever the beginnings made for this desired scientific criticism, they must
be carefully and by reasoning arrived at. Then taking the above as a
starting place, we may conclude first that the preponderance of one of
our two great elements of Art in any marked degree to the setting aside
of the other is destroying the balance and therefore the success of Art,
— the two elements namely of Truth and of Beauty. The enquiry to
follow out would be, whether any order is discernible in the change of
relations of these two things in the history of Art. Let us see the charac-
ter of Art near its beginning. We might reasonably suppose men would
begin with copies made to the best of their ability from the things
round them, that these would be rough but exact, and that the deliberate
pursuit of beauty would be entered on when some facility in giving truth
had been attained. But it will be best to see in the remains of archaic
art we possess how far this is true. First let us look at Eg)q)tian and
Assyrian art : in these no advance beyond a certain point is made, and
we must think of them as work in which the creative genius of their
respective nations failed in the energy which carried the Art of Greece
and of the middle ages to the places they have attained. Now the works
of these nations we find are very conventional, so much so that they
require conscious allowance in the mind and an attitude brought
♦ Here initialled *R.S,* (Robert Scott, Master of Balliol),
HEALTH AND DECAY IN THE ARTS
77
about by education for their due appreciation. If it be said that these
marked departures from Nature, that is from truth, are not conven-
tionalism, which implies a deliberate act, but are incorrect from in-
capability, are the first incomplete efforts after truth of an age in which
the eye had not been trained to look severely at things apart from their
associations, innocently or purely as painters say ; then a few instances
may be brought forward to shew in these ancient artists both the
deliberate adoption of conventionalities as such, as requirements of a
limit-setting pursuit, and the coexistent perception of things as they
are, a little-indulged realism. Such is this one : in Assyrian Art, if an
inferior member is in front of a superior it gives way to it so as to ap-
pear behind : thus if a bowman is shewn drawing the bowstring to his
right ear the string is not allowed to cross and break the lines of the
face, but ends suddenly when it reaches the outline of the profile, and
seems to go behind. Again the winged beasts have, as is well known,
five legs, so that looked at either in profile or in full they may be
always seen to have four. These things shew a remarkably clear con-
ception of Art as Art using its own language and appealing to a critical
body of its own state of civilization to accept and allow its conventio-
nalities. Egyptian figures are all made on a fixed proportion ; they were
divided by a number of horizontal lines, making parts answering in
character to the modern artistic division into heads. So many are given
to a standing, so many to a sitting figure. But in the rock-temple at
Ipsambul,* the figures being colossal and it being wished to give great
massiveness and appearance of strength, (for some are seated as
sovereigns and others stand as Caryatids), the common proportions
are lessened by two heads. Then again the king is represented as a
giant among pigmy enemies, but if he is more closely connected with
one of them, as seizing or killing him, a third term of conventionalism
is applied, this figure being made greater than the rest but somewhat
smaller than the king. For an instance of realism in Assyrian Art we
may point to the men thrown from the battlements of a besieged town,
whose hair is shewn falling forwards and downwards from their heads.
But in early Greek and Middle Age Art we shall find completer
instances of the coexistence of realism with broad conventionalism.
We may compare the conventional treatment of trees in Middle-Age
and in more modern Art. The former represents a tree by a firm
bounding line, giving the shape of the tree pretty correctly but
typically, and within that from twenty to forty leaves correct in shape,
carefully drawn, but not grouped or in any way perspectively treated.
This is what is to be seen in Missal-painting. In late Art (that is. Art in
which subordination of parts has been reached and established) trees
are represented not typically but with the irregularity of Nature, the
outline is a rough furry touch, mass is given and projection or solidity,
EARLY NOTE-BOOKS
Wv'a
78
but without truth of detail. That a developed Art requires some such
power of rapid generalizing treatment for its less finished* is true, but
the principle always goes further and in the hands of inferior men, of
imitators of manner not of spirit, of a declining Art, it degenerates
into mere touch, trick and mannerism. It is apparent that early Art
conventionalises by representing carefully the chief, the characteristic
points of a thing, the prominent details; all besides is set aside and
implied in the spectator ; it purports on the face of it to be a conven-
tionalism, and if it be felt to be too stiff, too much abbreviated, suc-
ceeding Art brings correction. The other does not so choose and limit
what is to be represented, it thinks nothing done unless the conven-
tionalism be complete, proportionate, it gives no piece of carefuR
realism produced at the expense of conventionalism in non-essentials,
but conventionalises its subject as a whole by a general carelessness of
treatment; and the realism which it may lose is much harder to
restore to Art than it is to acquire in the other case, besides that
from its impartiality and subordination it deceives, as the early work,
avowedly conventional, never can do.|
{Continued,)
This difference between early and late Art is caused by the desire
for Perfection: that is, when any art is established and strong, the
desire to see all harmonious, to blend all the elements, to treat all
the subject matter with the same amount of realism and to raise it to the
same pitch of idealism, not to distribute these things arbitrarily, comes
into play and rules its progress. It was just and it was inevitable that
the wish should arise not to give a tree by a typical outline and a few
careful representative leaves, but by a natural irregular outline and
the confusion and mass of many leaves. The sense of perfection is
strong with us all ; once attained all which wants it becomes painful ;
it is this which gives the Parthenon and Sophocles’ plays their distin-
guished excellence ; they might have been richer but then they must
have been different ; they fulfil, we feel, the laws of their being. How
then is it that decline in Art sets in ? It need not of course set in ; with
genius abounding and in a time of national health, there would be no
degeneracy ; it would be an easily-detected fallacy to say what is perfect
cannot change except for the worse. The decline sets in no doubt from
external causes, but it attacks the weak points of an Art which has reached
the state of perfection, that is, of established harmony. The old conven-
tionalisms had been abolished, but conventionalism is not abolished ;
it is only distributed. Let us regard the art of Painting. Under the
pretence of a realism which keeps all things in the due mutual pro-
* Thus in MS.
I Here initialled {the and reader was possibly W, L, Newman; see p. 55 and n.)
HEALTH AND DECAY IN THE ARTS 79
portions of nature, realism is undermined ; details are subordinated,
neglected, falsified, till all is true and all is untrue. Perfection is
dangerous because it is deceptive. Art slips back while bearing, in its
distribution of tone, or harmony, the look of a high civilization to-
wards barbarism. Recovery must be by a breaking up, a violence,
such as was the Preraphaelite school.
This will perhaps throw light on the history of the renaissance : right
or wrong it was inevitable. It looks like an abjuration of nationality ;
but in fact Art had worked laboriously, and Perfection presented itself
with irresistible attraction to men’s minds : had there been no Greek
art to look to they would no doubt have spent the century of the renais-
sance and succeeding years in harmonizing their old materials, but per-
fection was already to be found in Greek art, and they closed with it.
We may perhaps conclude from the instances given above that con-
ventionalism is not the confession of incapability ; but on the other
hand it will not express the truth to say it is absolutely chosen for its
own sake without reference to the conditions and difficulties of Art.
But as the metre and rhymes, conditions and restrictions of verse, are
the unexpected cause of the rise of all that we call poetry, so do the
conditions of painting, sculpture, and the rest of the arts contain their
greatness, their strength and their decline. The arts present things to
us in certain modes which in the higher shape we call idealism, in the
lower conventionalism. The character of these idealisms is the best
guide to the health of any age of Art, but to develop these characters
is a work requiring the instancing of many examples. One example
however may be given of the truth of this criterion : it is this, the love
of the picturesque, the suggestive, when developed to the exclusion of
the purely beautiful is a sure sign of decay and weakness : it is found
in the melancholy epigrams of the Greek Anthologies, in the land-
scape of Claude, and most remarkably in the novels and poetry of
the United States.
THE ORIGIN OF OUR MORAL IDEAS
[An essay written for Walter Pater^
Three theories are proposed, the first that of innate ideas or of one
innate idea which attaches itself to some of the voluntary acts of the
mind. Another is Utilitarianism which makes morality lie in what
attains or tends towards attaining the greatest happiness for the
greatest number. The third is the historical theory — an id^a of
morality or of good is evolved and receives localisation and recognition
in the process of time : the chain of morals from one age to anothe^ isrfg
facto and a succession, no further unity. * 1
The method may be followed in this question of taking up the other
end of the chain and looking at moral ideas in their composite stite.
By this means we shall be led on to the tottoi the settlement of which
must go before the choice of a theory of origin.
The things which we consider most absolutely excellent in point of
morality, most disinterested — to begin with ra Xeyofiem — , are not the
earliest but the latest in point of apprehension. So the clearest and
most disinterested appreciation of beauty comes of education, for when
the innocent eye of the uneducated or of children is spoken of in art
it is understood that their sense is correct, that is that they are free
from fallacies implying some education, but not that it is strong or
definite. Historically for instance it is plain that the sense of motive
rose into consciousness lattT than the approval of objectively good
deeds, or in the individual that the lower sanctions must be appealed
to, in time, before the higher.
The analogy which has been used of beauty and moral excellence
may be followed to a point of divergence, since superficially at all
events it is allowed to hold by all.
Beauty lies in the relation of the parts of a sensuous thing to each
other, that is in a certain relation, it being absolute at one point and
comparaUve \n those neaxmg It oTiaWmg horn it. Thus in those arts ot
which the effect Is in time, not space, it is a scc|uencc at certain inter-
vals elementarily at least. These arts are instanced as being nearest
i" ‘me. Docs then morality lie in a rela-
of action ? onmej the parts of action ? h it a sequence
The diction t
iye and subjective morality must here shew
y fell more readily into some such fonn.
Ou wderlimngs in this tssyi are in pencil, (.’) done by Pater.
THE ORIGIN OF OUR MORAL IDEAS 8x
Justice for instance, which in a sense covers the whole field of morality
as Aristotle says, stands in requital, and this implies antecedents and
consequent action : it is a sequence of action on antecedent conditions.
But now what kind of sequences would be these, namely of morality ?
Are they like those of beauty? In sensuous things a certain proportion
in the intervals makes up beauty, as it appears to us, arbitrarily. Is tlie
relation of the conditions in a righteous act arbitrary, so to call it, and
ultimate or is it one of logic ? It seems then easy to see that an objectively
good deed is logical. For instance when people praise the bequests of a
will as just they mean that each legatee receives in proportion to his
claims, which they are supposed to know the amount of. But for the
subjective excellence of the bequests we understand that there must
have been an inducement to make them otherwise, what in fact we
call a temptation.
In the general case logic without any medium determines the mind,
as if there is no way into a field but by a gate, we go in by the gate.
It only does not do so supposing there is reason the other side, making
the conclusion uncertain. In other words the premises are not pro-
perly made out, or the logic is not perfect. If two lines of reasoning
seem incompatible the difficulty is got rid of by closer attention, and
from their composition follows a result. But in morals the logic may be
perfect and action not follow. If however we use logic in the truer sense
for everything which determines the mind to act, we find the phenomena
of morals are those of two incompatible logics, for it is notorious in
casuistry that the attraction of some sins is greater the greater the
attention of the mind, and it cannot be said that this holds in the same
way with every train of reasoning because the essence of right and
wrong lies in our consciousness of the contradiction between them.
This being the phenomenon we are able to see the questions into
which the discussion of the spring of moral ideas will throw itself. Since
there are two (in the broad sense) logics putting stress on the mind,
one belonging to virtue, one to vice, (i) does the one, the moral,
differ from the other in having (in the strict sense) a correct logical form ?
(ii) If so, what are its universals? since not all logic touches morals.
And why does it seem to differ in kind from other trains of thought?
(ill) Or arc the two motives alike, both receiving trains of reasoning
or propositions and impressing each its own character on them ?
To take the second first — utilitarians say the morally good is what
attains the good, that is the advantageous, and that of course the
greatest such, and that, they add, for the greatest number. Accord-
mgly the difficulty of the rise of our moral ideas is got over by the a
posteriori definition. The difference from other forms of thought might be
said perhaps to come from moral action with its specific elements having
B 0028 o
EARLY NOTE-BOOKS
82
become more and more definite and *accidented* in our minds by its
perpetual occurrence and not at least to be more strange than that
the difference between green and purple should turn on the different
speed of vibrations of light in striking our retinas.
But the utilitarian formula requires much exception . As it stands it
only explains the objective part of morality, that is to say it fails to
explain morality at all. It is plain that we require not only that a good
deed should please our after judgment but that it should have pleased
its subject in the same light, and as it falls from this so it falls from pure
morality. Take first cases of high moral action done with deliberate
motive, not in ignorance. No life for instance can in the utilitarian
point of view be better than that of a Sister of Mercy. Then if the
motive of the life be the common formula we have the utilit^ian
morality in its whole. But if the form of the life be only a deduction
from another motive its morality ought to be diminished. If it be ^aid
that the motive implied in devotion includes the happiness of ^he
greatest number this may be so in fact but not in mental attitude, as is
quite plain from the wording of devotions and from the popular sort of
sayings ascribed to St. Thomas and indeed prima facie. And if* this
morality is yet called imperfect nevertheless it has been historically
more efficient, and self-sacrificing, and it is retrograde to put another
motive as the spring of morality when civilisation is always trying to
realise to itself morality in more and more disinterested, that is abso-
lute, manifestations. Or take the opposite case, of moral action in
ignorance. As deeds subjectively the best are those wdiich have for their
motive the happiness of the gi eatest number so the value, that is the
essence, of morality must lessen with the limitation of this motive, and
those who act rightly — consistently of course and not by chance —
without aiming at anyone’s good are not moral at all. Children, if we
can suppose any universal in the mind at all, must be thought to say
Right is to do what one is bid. The obedience of children we regard
as having moral worth. If the utilitarians do not, then they contradict
the popular feeling, and in cases like this popular feeling is critical,
because if we are to have any success in the analysis of recondite
principles of the mind we must take up Aristotle’s method of accepting
ra Xeyofieva as implying in themselves a history of thought and recog-
nition wider than we could anywhere else get. Utilitarianism then ex-
plains neither end or extreme and fails historically both in mankind
and in the individual. Or it may be attacked analytically, as not being
ultimate. If we aim at the happiness of the greatest number we must
do it for one of these reasons, either (i) because it is right that they
should be happy or (ii) because the conception of the widest possible
happiness fulfils an ideal in the mind or (iii) because the happiness of
others is the only sure way towards our own or (iv) for love or, as the
THE ORIGIN OF OUR MORAL IDEAS 83
older moralists would say, benevolence. The first it cannot be because
this already assumes morality. The two last though they are open to
the same objection as the utilitarian formula itself of explaining mora-
lity a posteriori arc better because simpler and from being so generally
recognised. These, though less signally, seem not to answer to the
historical conditions of morality. The second reason remains — that
the happiness of the greatest number fulfils an ideal in the mind. This
seems to give a new starting point.
All thought is of course in a sense an effort an unity. This may be
pursued analytically as in science or synthetically as in art or morality.
In art it is essential to recognise and strive to realise on a more or less
wide basis this unity in some shape or other. It seems also that the
desire for unity, for an ideal, is the only definition which will satisfy the
historical phenomena of morality. There is an important difference
to be noted here. In art we strive to realise not only unity, permanence
of law, likeness, but also, with it, difference, variety, contrast : it is
rhyme we like, not echo, and not unison but harmony. But in morality
the highest consistency is the highest excellence. The reason of this
seems to be that the desire of unity is prior to that of difference and
whereas in art both are in our power, in moral action our utmost
efforts never result in its perfect realisation, in perfect consistency.
But why do we desire unity ? The first answer would be that the ideal,
the one, is our only means of recognising successfully our being to
ourselves, it unifies us, while vice destroys the sense of being by dissi-
pating thought. €(jTt yap rj KaKia (f>dapT(,Krj apxqs,^ wickedness breaks up
unity of principle. If this be thought mysticism further explanation
may be given.
POETIC DICTION
[An essay mitten for the Master of Balliol
Wordsworth’s view was that poetic diction scarcely differed or
ought to differ from that of prose : he said ‘The most interesting parts
of the best poems will be found to be strictly the language of prose
when prose is well written.’* The protest which his criticisms and to
some degree his poetry made against the wide separation existir|g and
believed to exist between the two things was, acting as a corrective,
truer for the time than anything which could be said on the other side.
His view could not however be received as decisive without more
modification than is given in his essay. \
If the best prose and the best poetry use the same language —
(Coleridge^ defined poetry as the best thoughts in the best words) —
why not use unfettered prose of the two? Because, it would be an-
swered, of the beauty of verse. This is quite insufficient : then bald
prose and simple statement would be made better by verse, whereas
everyone feels that they are made worse. No, it is plain that metre,
rhythm, rhyme, and all the structure which is called verse both neces-
sitate and engender a difference in diction and in thought. The effect
of verse is one on expression and on thought, viz. concentration and
all which is implied by this. This does not mean terseness nor rejection
of what is collateral nor emphasis nor even definiteness though these
may be very well, or best, attained by verse, but mainly, though the
words are not quite adequate, vividness of idea or, as they would
especially have said in the last century, liveliness.
But what the character of poetry is will be found best by looking at
the structure of verse. The artificial part of poetry, perhaps we shall
be right to say all artifice, reduces itself to the principle of parallelism.
The structure of poetry is that of continuous parallelism, ranging from
the technical so-called Parallelisms of Hebrew poetry and the anti-
phons of Church music up to the intricacy of Greek or Italian or
English verse. But parallelism is of two kinds necessarily — where the
opposition is clearly marked, and where it is transitional rather or
chromatic. Only the first kind, that of marked parallelism, is con-
cerned with the structure of verse — in rhythm, the recurrence of a
certain sequence of syllables, in metre, the recurrence of a certain
sequence of rhythm, in alliteration, in assonance and in rhyme. Now
the force of this recurrence is to beget a recurrence or parallelism
answering to it in the words or thought and, speaking roughly and
rather for the tendency than the invariable result, the more marked
POETIC DICTION
85
parallelism in structure whether of elaboration or of emphasis begets
more marked parallelism in the words and sense. And moreover
parallelism in expression tends to beget or passes into parallelism in
thought. This point reached we shall be able to see and account for the
peculiarities of poetic diction. To the marked or abrupt kind of
parallelism belong metaphor, simile, parable, and so on, where the
effect is sought in likeness of things, and antithesis, contrast, and so
on, where it is sought in unlikeness. To the chromatic parallelism
belong gradation, intensity, climax, tone, expression (as the word is
used in music), chiaroscuro^ perhaps emphasis: while the faculties of
Fancy and Imagination might range widely over both kinds, Fancy
belonging more especially to the abrupt than to the transitional class.
Accordingly we may modify what Wordsworth says. An emphasis
of structure stronger than the common construction of sentences gives
asks for an emphasis of expression stronger than that of common
speech or writing, and that for an emphasis of thought stronger than
that of common thought. And it is commonly supposed that poetry
has tasked the highest powers of man’s mind : this is because, as it
asked for greater emphasis of thought and on a greater scale, at each
stage it threw out the minds unequal to further ascent. The diction of
poetry could not then be the same with that of prose, and again of
prose we can see from the other side that its diction ought not to be
that of poetry, and that the great abundance of metaphor or antithesis
is displeasing because it is not called for by, and interferes with, the
continuousness of its flow. For the necessities or conditions of every art
are as Lessing shews the rules by which to try it. And to come to
particulars, why for instance, on Wordsworth’s principle strictly
interpreted, should the accentuation of the last syllable of participles,
which so common as it is seems perpetually able to add fresh beauty
where it is applied, be used in verse and never in prose? Or in poetry
why should it give more pleasure than as being a complement of the
mere structural apparatus of verse? as it does in lines like
So I am as the rich whose blessed key
Can bring him to his sweet up-locked treasure,*
It is because where the structure forces us to appreciate each syllable
it is natural and in the order of things for us to dwell on all modiflea-
tions affecting the general result or type which the ear preserves and
accordingly with such as are in themselves harmonious we are pleased,
but in prose where syllables have none or little determinate value to
emphasise them is unmeaning.*
* Initialled 'R.S*
ON THE ORIGIN OF BEAUTY: A
PLATONIC DIALOGUE
[From note-book dated 12 May 1865]
It was at the beginning of the Long Vacation, and Oxford was nearly
empty. The Professor of the newly founded chair of Aesthetics, whose
lectures had been unattended during the term, came one day in the
evening to New College gardens and found John Hanbury a sfcholar
of the college walking there. They knew each other, and hadltaken
two or three turns under the chestnuts together, when a stranger came
up to them and asked if these were Worcester Gardens. \
This is New College’ said Hanbury : ‘may I direct you to
cester ?’ No, the stranger said, he had only wished to know the naipe ;
and, then shewing a sketching-block, he asked if there would be any
objection to his sketching there. ‘Not at all’ said Hanbury : ‘shall I
bring a chair? My rooms are close by’. He always drew standing, he
said, and Hanbury and the Professor moved away.
‘What was that paradox I heard of yours?’ asked the Professor:
‘about criticism it was.’
‘O it was nothing’ said Hanbury drawing back.
‘But let me hear it defended. Everybody likes a good paradox. The
Frenchman said the marriage-tie was in every case a bad thing, for if
the married tired of each other it bound them together against their
will, and if they did not it was superfluous. I like that : do not you ?’
‘But mine is not a good paradox’ said Hanbury ; ‘it is hardly one at
all : at all events I do not see how to avoid the conclusion it brings me
to. I was saying that in poetry purely common-sense criticism was not
enough by itself : that is true, is it not?’
‘Certainly.’
‘And criticism is not advocacy : it is rather judicial, is it not?’
‘Judicial, it should be.’
‘And judgments depend on laws, on established laws. Now taste has
few rules, and those not scientific and easily disputed, and I might add,
often disputed. Am I right?’
‘At least, go on’ said the Professor.
‘If a man disputes your judgment in taste, how can you prove he is
wrong? If a man thinks beautiful what you think bad, you must
believe he is sincere when he tells you so ; and if he is educated how
are you to say that his judgment is worse than yours? In fact de
gustibus non est disputandum. Criticism therefore in matters of taste can*-
not be judicial. And purely common-sense criticism is not enough, we
ON THE ORIGIN OF BEAUTY 87
agreed. So criticism in matter of taste has no weight at all. That was
it: do not be severe on it.’
‘I will respect it, my dear Hanbury, I will respect it, though I do
not quite think you have proved your point. However I will not answer
you directly, for do you know I am not so sure about de gusiibus, which
is going further back?’
‘Indeed’ said Hanbury. ‘Well if you think there are ascertainable
laws, I should be glad of it for one ; for when one is morally sure that
one is right, it is a pity not to be able to refer to a logical ground for
one’s belief.’
‘I have my theory’ said the Professor; ‘but I am afraid — ’
‘Do let me hear it’ said Hanbury: ‘I shall be a disciple I am sure.’
‘My first’ said the Professor ‘it will be then. But may I pursue the
Socratic method ? May I take up the dialectic battledore which you
have just laid down ?’
‘The dialectic battledore do you call it? I shall be so glad to be the
— ^v^^hat is that called now ? I have been about thirteen years out of the
nursery. The shuttlecock, of course, — to be the shuttlecock to it.’
‘Now where shall I begin ?’ said the Professor. ‘I will begin here’,
and he pulled off one of the large lowest fans of the chestnuts. ‘Do you
think this beautiful?’
‘That? The chestnut-fan? Certainly: I have always thought the
chestnut one of the most finely foliaged of trees.’
‘You see it consists of seven leaves, the middle largest, diminishing
towards the stalk, so that those ne^irest the stalk are smallest.’
‘I see’ said Hanbury ‘I had never noticed there were seven before.’
‘Now if we look about we shall find — ^yes there is one. There is a
fan, do you see? with only six leaves. Nature is irregular in these
things. Can you reach it? Now which do you think the more beautiful,
the one with six, or the one with seven, leaves? Shut out, if you can,
the remembrance that the six-leaved one is an anomaly or imper-
fection : consider it symmetrical.’
‘Well I daresay the six-leaved one may improve the foliage by variety,
but in themselves the seven-leaved one is the handsomer.’
‘Just so’ said the Professor; ‘but could you give any reason?’
‘I suppose, as they are like in all other respects, it is that seven is a
prettier number than six, and that would agree with the mystical
character attached to the number seven.’
‘Yes, but let me understand’ said the Professor. ‘Now is loi a
prettier number than 100?’
‘loi ? I do not know. No, I think 100 is. No: of course in fact it
depends on 100 or loi of what.’
‘Suppose then I had two great chestnut-fans, one with 100, one with
1 01, leaves, which would be the handsomer? You will say you could
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not tell till you saw them. But now, following the arrangements of
these six-leaved and seven-leaved fans, in the lOO-leavcd there would
be 50 radiating leaves on either side and a gap in the middle, in the
loi -leaved 50 on either side and one, the greatest, in the middle. Do
you see?’
‘Perfectly. And I think the 1 01 -leaved, or in fact the odd-leaved
one whatever its number of leaves, would be the handsomer; not, as
you seem to shew, from the abstract excellence of an odd number,
but because — well, I suppose because to have the greatest leaf in the
middle is the handsomer way.’ ,
‘But which is the more symmetrical ?’ asked the Professor, % not
the six-leaved one ?’ \
‘Both have symmetry ; yet, as you say, the six-leaved one seenis the
more so, supposing it of course to be really symmetrical, whica this
specimen is not.’ \
‘Is not this’ asked the Professor ‘because it is naturally divided into
two equal parts of three leaves each, while the seven-leaved is not, and
cannot be symmetrical in the same way unless we physically cut the
greatest leaf down the middle.’
‘Yes that is it; I see’ said Hanbury.
‘And so you judge the less markedly symmetrical to be the hand-
somer. Still the seven-leaved one has much symmetry. But now look
at the tree from which I pulled it. Do you like it better as it is, or
would you have the boughs start from the trunk at the same height
on opposite sides, symmetrically pair and pair?’
‘As it is, certainly.’
‘Or again look at the colouring of the sky.’
‘But’ put in Hanbury ‘colouring is not a thing of symmetry.’
‘No: but now what is symmetry? Is it not regularity?’
‘I should say, the greatest regularity’ said Hanbury.
‘So it is. But is it not that sort of regularity which is measured by
length and breadth and thickness? Music for instance might be
regular, but not symmetrical ever; is it not so?’
‘Quite so’ said Hanbury.
‘Let us say regularity then. The sky, you see, is blue above, then
comes a pale indescribable hue, and then the red of the sundown.
You admire it do you not?’
‘Very much’ said Hanbury.
‘But the red is the richest colour, is it not?’
‘Now it is ; yes.’
Should you then like the whole sky to be of one uniform rich red ?
‘Certainly not.’
Or the red and blue to end sharply with a straight line, without
anything as a gobe tween ?’
ON THE ORIGIN OF BEAUTY
89
‘No : I like the gradation.’
‘Again then you approve of variety over absolute uniformity. And
variety is opposed to regularity, is it not ? while uniformity is regularity.
Is it not so?*
‘Certainly. I am to conclude then that beauty is produced by
irregularity’ said Hanbury,
‘Ah ! you run on very fast’ said the Professor. ‘I never said that. Once
more, if you please, I must send my shuttlecock up to the sky. You will
no doubt with your feathers of vantage see better than I can, consider-
ing how my view is cut off by the buildings of the College, that rows
of level cloud run along the west of the sky.’
‘At all events’ said he ‘I can see them.’
‘Do you think they would be better away ?’ asked the Professor.
‘No: they add to the beauty of the sunset sky.’
‘Notice however that they are pretty symmetrical. They are straight,
and parallel with the sky-line and with each other, and of a uniform
colour, and other things in them are symmetrical. Should you admire
them more if they were shapeless ?’
‘I think not’ said Hanbury.
‘Again when we say anyone has regular features, do we mean
praise or blame?’
‘Praise.’
‘We wTre speaking of the chestnut-trees, of their unsymmetrical
growth. Now is the oak an unsymmetrical tree?’
‘Very much so; O quite a rugged boldly-irregular tree: and this I
should say was one of the things which make us invest it with certain
qualities it has in poetry and in popular and national sentiment’ said
Hanbury.
‘Very observant. You mean of course when it grows at liberty,
rather than when influenced by confinement, cutting and so forth.’
‘Yes: what I say will of course be truest of the tree when unin-
fluenced by man.’
‘Very good. Now have you ever noticed that when the oak has
grown to its full stature uninfluenced, the outline of its head is drawn
by a long curve, I should think it would be that of a parabola, which,
if you look at the tree from a little way off, is of almost mathematical
correctness ?’
‘Dear me, is it indeed so ? No, I had never noticed it, but now that
you name it, I do seem to find something in me which verifies what
you say.’
‘Do you happen to remember’ asked the Professor ‘that fine oak
at the top of the hill above Elsfield where you have such a wide view?’
‘Of course I do. Yes a very fine tree.’
‘If you had analysed your admiration of it I think you would have
90
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had to lay a good deal of it to that strict parabolic outline. Or again if
one of the three side-leaves of this seven-leaved chestnut-fan be torn
off, it will be less beautiful, will it not? And this, I am sure you will
now say, because the symmetry is destroyed.’
‘Yes’ said Hanbury. ‘Then beauty, you would say perhaps, is a
mixture of regularity and irregularity.’
‘Complex beauty, yes. But let us inquire a little further. What is
regularity ? Is it not obedience to law ? And what is law ? Does it not
mean that several things, or all the parts of one thing, are like each
other ?’
‘Let me understand’ said Hanbury. j
‘I fear I ply my battledore so fiercely that the best of shuttkcocks
has not time to right itself between the blows ; but I will be steadier.
Is not a straight line regular ? and a circle ?’ \
‘Nothing can be more so’ said Hanbury. \
‘And any part of a straight line or of a circle is exactly like another
of the same size, is it not?’
‘Exactly.’
‘They are in fact consistent with themselves, and alike throughout.’
‘Yes they are.’
‘Regularity then is consistency or agreement or likeness, either of a
thing to itself or of several things to each other.’
‘I understand the first part of what you say, but — I am very sorry
again to trouble you — not quite the second.’
‘It is my fault’ said the Professor. ‘I mean tliat although a leaf might
have an outline on one side so irregular that no law could be traced in
it, yet if the other side exactly agreed with it, you would say there w'as
law or regularity about the leaf to make one side like the other. Or if
the leaf of a tree were altogether irregular, supposing such a thing
were to be found in nature, yet all the leaves on the tree were ex-
actly like it, having precisely that same irregularity, then you would
recognise the presence of law about the tree.’
‘Yes: I understand perfectly now.’
‘Then regularity is likeness or agreement or consistency, and irregu-
larity is the opposite, that is difference or disagreement or change or
variety. Is it so?’
‘Certainly.’
‘Then the beauty of the oak and the chestnut-fan and the sky is a
mixture of likeness and difference or agreement and disagreement or
consistency and variety or symmetry and change.’
‘It seems so, yes.’
‘And if we did not feel the likeness we should not think them so
beautiful, or if we did not feel the difference we should not think them
so beautiful. The beauty we find is from the comparison we make of
ON THE ORIGIN OF BEAUTY
9 *
the things with themselves, seeing their likeness and difference, is it
not?’
‘Yes. But let me think a little. This may be the nature of the beauty
in the things you have spoken of and of many others, but I do not at
all yet see how it applies to all things, and I should like to ask you to
account for some of them. Let me collect some instances.’
He stood looking out through a loophole in one of the towers of the
old wall. Meanwhile the sketcher, who had long been drawing in a
desultory way, moved from the stand he had taken up, as though
meaning to walk about. He had become more interested in this
philosophy of the Gardens than in his sketching, for in the clear air of
the evening he had heard almost everything that was said, and the
questioner and answerer had raised their voices : he was loath to lose
the end of the debate. Hanbury hearing him move turned and asked
if he would come in and have some tea. He thanked him and accepted
the offer. It was then debated whether the party should go in at once
or no, and it was agreed they should for the present at least continue
to walk about. Hanbury in courtesy began to talk on indifferent sub-
jects, but the stranger begged the discussion might be continued.
‘I am afraid’ he said T have heard more than I had any business
to do, but I have become so interested that I — one’s fondness for
painting will be the best excuse for the interest a discussion on beauty
has for one. Perhaps I might serve as alternative shuttlecock, while
Mr. Hanbury’ — he had heard the name from the Professor’s mouth in
the course of the talk — ‘is collecting his instances. I hardly think I
entirely understood the last of what was said.’
‘If you will be so kind’ said the Professor. ‘But I fear that in the
ardour of the game I thump the shuttlecock far too hard, in order to
bring out the more resonant answers. I know quite well what sort of
things Hanbury is going to bring forward, and in the meantime I
would gladly fortify my first ground, which I took only with regard to
things of abstract beauty. Of course everyone would allow as a truism
that in making beautiful shapes (and the same will hold for the other
kinds of abstract beauty) we must not have things too symmetrical ;
and most would allow we must not have them too unsymmetrical
and rugged ; but what this means and leads to they do not so much
seem to consider. Now let me take an instance from those excellent
frescos which are being added to the new smoking-room at the
Union* — ’
‘Excuse me’ said the painter ; T have come up to paint those frescos,
so perhaps you would find me too much prejudiced, for them to serve
your purpose as examples.’
‘Indeed’ said the others ‘then your name is Middleton, we are to
presume.’
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‘Yes’ said he; ‘but pray do not let the discussion be interrupted on
account of my frescos. You will, I am sure, find another instance.’
‘I will return then to the chestnut-fan’ said the Professor. Hanbury
went in to make tea, promising soon to be back, and the Professor
continued. ‘Each leaf is symmetrical is it not? Counting from the
rib or spine which runs down the back of the middle leaf, each side
of the fan answers to the other, does it not?’
‘Quite so.’
‘With the exception’ went on the Professor ‘of such slight inequalities
or imperfections as are always to be found in nature. And these would
not be expressed at all in an idealised chestnut-fan used in ArtJ would
they? I mean of course not in a landscape picture, but in fcuch a
formalised and conventionalised shape as the chestnut-fan would have
in decoration and architecture and so on.’ ^
‘Yes’ said Middleton; ‘It would then be quite symmetrical.’ \
‘But yet it would not have lost its beauty, would it? — But i am
really ashamed to ask these questions.’
‘Not at all, not at all’ said Middleton ; ‘I beg you will not be so.
No, it would not have lost its beauty. It is in fact one of the most
beautiful natural shapes at the disposal of Art.’
‘And what was said of the whole fan is also true of each leaf of it,
that it is symmetrical : but now let us see what this symmetry comes to.
For first one side answers to the other, but yet there is a leaf, the middle
one, which belongs to neither one side nor the other. Hanbury and I
had agreed that this contrast of two opposite things, symmetry and
the violation of it, was here preferable to pure symmetry. Next it
radiates, but the radiation of leaves is not carried all the way round.
Would it be improved by more regular radiation, do you think?’
*0 no: whatever the beauties of regular radiation may be, the
particular beauty of the chestnut-fan depends on its not being so
radiated.’
‘Here again then contrast is preferred to agreement. Then the
leaves are pretty much alike but not of the same size. You would not
have them of the same size, I am sure, thus again preferring contrast
to agreement. And one sees that, although differing, they differ by a
law, diminishing as they do towards the stalk ; and this I presume is
more beautiful than if they differed irregularly, so that the contrast
of regularity with variety is once more preferred to agreement, the
agreement it would be in this case of entire irregularity. Is it not so?’
‘I think so, yes.’
‘Although from their diminishing they do not form part of that
most regular of figures the circle, yet in their diminishing they shape
out another figure, do they not? partly regular, though containing
variety; I mean that of a Greek Omega.’
ON THE ORIGIN OF BEAUTY
93
‘Yes, I see how you mean.’
‘Furthermore, although leaf answers to leaf on each side of the
central one, you will see that the equal leaves are not diametrically
opposite to each other — I use “diametrically” in its strict sense,
opposite as the one half of a diameter is to the one on the other side of
the center — , with the exception of two of them.’
‘No, I see’ said Middleton : ‘the greatest is opposite the stalk, which
is the slimmest thing belonging to the fan ; then the two next greatest,
which are nearest to the middle one, are opposite to the two smallest,
which are nearest to the stalk ; only the two between these two last-
mentioned pairs are both opposite and answering to each other. All
this I see ; and I understand that you would point out the contrast
made by the regularity of the continuous diameter with the irregu-
larity of the unequal opposite radiL^
‘That is just what I would say’ said the Professor. ‘Then it is not the
radiation which is the beauty of the fan, but the radiation heightened
by its cessation near the stalk.’
‘Yes.’
‘Nor the agreement of side with side, but that agreement as
reflected on by the one dominant leaf which belongs to neither
side.’
‘Yes,’
‘Nor the likeness of the leaves, but their likeness as thrown up by
their difference in size.’
‘Yes.’
‘Nor their inequality, but the inequality as tempered by their
regular diminishing.’
‘Yes.’
‘Nor their each having a diametrical opposite, but that opposite
being the least answering to themselves in the whole fan.’
‘Yes.’
‘I might say even more. It seems then that it is not the excellence
of any two things (or more) in themselves, but those two things as
viewed by the light of each other, that makes beauty. Do you under-
stand.’
‘I think so, but might I ask you still further to explain?’
‘1 had reserved what I think will be my best proof for the last’ said
the Professor. ‘The leaves of most trees may be roughly described as
being formed by the intersection of two equal circles, in fact the figure
called vesica piscis, but the leaves of this fan are not so. They are narrow
near the stalk, they pass outwards with a long concave curve, then
more than half-way up they turn, form a pair of round shoulders, so
to speak, and then come round sharply to the point. Look here for
instance,’ and he pulled one off the tree.
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‘Yes, the curve is more complex than in most trees j but I am not
sure I do not admire the commoner shape better in leaves.’
‘Yes’ said the Professor, ‘but now would you have the fan made of
that commoner sort? I have made a mock fan, see, with lime leaves.’*
‘Certainly not’ said Middleton. ‘The more complex curve is far
more beautiful in the fan, for it leaves long narrow slits of light be-
tween the leaves, and in other respects the composition is finer and
richer.’
‘Ah! that is the pith of the matter — “its composition.” But I am
afraid to go on ; I am talking to one who will laugh to see me fall into
some snare as I trespass over his own grounds.’ j
‘Pray go on’ said Middleton. \
‘If I am to do so’ said the Professor ‘I shall put these next questions
in fear and trembling. Do not painters speak of balancing m^s by
mass in the composition of their pictures.’ \
‘They do.’ \
‘If they balance mass by mass, the mass in one part of a picture must
be unbalanced until that in another part is put in.’
‘Of course.’
‘If unbalanced then, the picture is unbeautiful.’
‘Yes, in that respect.’
‘Now suppose when the picture was finished with two ma.sses
balanced, a copy were made from it, and one mass put in, not the one
that was put in the first in the original picture but the other, and then
the copying stopped ; the picture would then be imbalanced as before,
would it not?’
‘Just as the first picture was, yes.’
‘And it would be unbeautiful, would it not?’
‘Yes.’
‘But the finished picture was beautiful.’
‘Yes.’
The picture that had only one mass put in was unbeautiful : now
as it was to be beautiful when both masses were put in, we might sup-
pose the beauty must lie all in that mass which was yet to come : when
however we in our second picture, anxious to have our beauty as soon
as possible, put the second mass in first, pregnant as it was with graces,
lo and behold 1 the result was as uninteresting as when we had the first
mass alone put in. What are we to say then ?"'l^he beauty does not lie
in this mass or in that, but in what? In this mass as supported by that,
and in that as supported by this. Is it so?’
‘Exactly.’
And artists call this composition. Does not then the beauty lie in
the relation between the masses ?’
‘It seems it does.’
ON THE ORIGIN OF BEAUTY
95
‘Beauty then is a relation.’
‘I suppose it is.’
‘And things which have relation are near enough to have something
in common, but not near enough to be one and the same, are they not ?’
‘Yes.’
‘And to perceive the likeness and difference of things, or their rela-
tion, we must compare them, must we not?’
‘Yes.’
‘Beauty therefore is a relation, and the apprehension of it a com-
parison. The sense of beauty in fact is a comparison, is it not ?’
‘So it would appear.’
‘I have not yet said w/iat the relation is’ said the Professor, when he
was interrupted by Hanbury who had returned some time since.
‘Well’ said he ‘I must own, with all my wish for the logical ground
I spoke of in discussions of taste, I feel it very unworthy to think that
beauty resolves itself into a relation. However, it may be that the
particular kind of beauty in a chestnut-fan, which seems after all a
geometrical sort of thing, may be explained as you say, and you seem
to have pulled it to pieces to exhibit that, so that I am either con-
vinced or I really do not know what to say to the contrary ; but I am
sure there is in the higher forms of beauty — at least I seem to feel —
something mystical, something I don’t know how to call it. Is not
there now something beyond what you have explained ?’
‘Oh ! my dear friend, when one sets out with a priori notions — I am
afraid I have lost the only chance of a disciple I ever had.’
‘Not at all, I hope’ said Middleton.
‘No, no’ said Hanbury ; ‘if you will explain on your theory what I
am now going to put forward I will then believe it w^ill apply to every-
thing else. But now where is the relation you speak of, and the com-
parison, in this for instance ?
O blithe New-comcr! I have heard,
I hear thee and rejoice.
O Cuckoo ! Shall I call thee Bird
Or but a wandering Voice?*
Now is there not something mystical there, or is it all in plain broad
daylight?’
‘A mathematical thing, measured by compasses, that is what you
think I should make it, do you not?’
‘Well yes, if you put the words into my mouth.’
‘But’ went on the Professor ‘if I am to undertake the analysis of so
subtle a piece of beauty as you have tasked me with, might I do it by
the aid of candlelight ? for it is now dark, you see, and wet underfoot
and one is almost cold, I think. I hope the tea is not.’
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‘Ah ! the tea’ said Hanbury ; and they went in.
‘Now’ said the Professor, when they were settled down at the tea-
table, ‘am I to consider the stanza you have quoted by itself or with
reference to the rest of the poem ?’
‘How do you mean?’ said Hanbury.
‘It is rather an important point, and I must explain a little. You
would say that The Tempest is beautiful (I mean Shakspere’s play)
would you not ? and you would say that Tennyson’s poems are beauti-
ful, and I will suppose for argument’s sake that you like them all
without exception : now do you mean the same thing in saying The
Tempest is beautiful and that Tennyson’s poems are beautiful?’
‘Except for a difference in the degree of my admiration I suppose
I do.’ \
‘No difference in kind ?’ ^
‘I see none.’ \
‘Suppose from the volume of Tennyson’s smaller poems there\were
a dozen taken away. Should you admire the remaining ones less?’
‘Of course not. It could make no difference in them’ said Hanbury.
‘And your estimate of Tennyson would be much the same without
them ; and so in any other like case, except as far as each fresh poem
might be a proof of a wider range and greater versatility ; and, other
things being equal, I suppose versatility would put one great man above
another. That by the way however. In any case the remaining poems
would seem neither more nor less beautiful. But now if from a play
you leave out two or three scenes, should you admire the remainder
as much as when taken together with them?’
‘No. But of course the plot would be destroyed by their being left
out, or mangled at all events ; and a plot is so necessary to a play that
— but in fact it is plain a play is almost nothing at all without its plot
worked out.’
‘Ah yes, but it is a great deal more than that’ said the Professor.
‘What I mean would apply to omissions which would not harm the
plot, and I could make such omissions in many plays. For instance one
hears a great deal about the tragic irony of the Greek playwriters, and
the spirit which is meant by that phrase will run through a play and
be developed in particular scenes, but yet have so little directly to do
with the story, that a child would understand the play just as well if
all expressions of this spirit were left out. The misconceptions, the
unconsciously produced double senses, the prophecies and so on, of the
characters are favourite channels of pathos and other dramatic effect
with the poets. They are not needed by the plot or the bare statement
of them only is needed, but dramatically considered their loss would
be great, would it not?’
‘Certainly, yes,’
ON THE ORIGIN OF BEAUTY
97
‘The unity which is needed for every work of art and especially for
a play is enforced on us by many other things besides the plot. For
instance, you remember Dido’s curse on Aeneas and his children in
Virgil.^ Nothing more than the fact of the curse was needed for the
story, if that. The first part, that referring to Aeneas, is fulfilled, you
know, but in another sense than that meant by Dido. This seems to
me, though as I say nothing to do with the intelligibility of the story,
to give more and grander unity to the book than any other touch in it.
The latter part,
Exoriare aliquis nostris ex ossibus ultor,
and so on, looks beyond the time of the Aeneid to Hannibal’s war,
quite external therefore to the plot. You feel, I am sure, how great its
loss would be.’
‘Oh yes’ said Hanbury.
‘This of course’ went on the Professor ‘implies a knowledge in the
reader ; but almost all works of art imply knowledge of things external
to themselves in the mind of the critic — in fact all do; but this is a
wide field I must not now enter on. All I want to shew is that there is
a relation between the parts of the thing to each other and again of the
parts to the whole, which must be duly kept. If from the volume of
poems we take a dozen away, we agreed there is no difference, the
remainder are neither better nor worse. But if from one single work of
art, one whole, we take anything appreciable away, a scene from a
play, a stanza from a short piece, or whatever it is, there is a change,
it must be better or worse without it ; in a great man’s work it will be —
there are of course exceptions — worse. Is it not so?’
‘Yes, it must be so’ said Hanbury, ‘I see.’
‘And’ said Middleton ‘is not this to be explained in the same way ?
I mean the oddness or new character a passage has which we have
seen quoted and now come on wdth its context. It is not in this case
that we imagined the thing to be a whole in itself and found it was
only a part of the whole, because one generally sees at once that a
quotation is something detached, but that our vague conception of
what the drift of the context must be is found wrong. I must say that
Wordsworth often disappoints me when I come upon a passage I knew
by quotation : it seems less pointed, less excellent, with its context than
without.’
‘It is the case with Virgil, I think’ said Hanbury.
‘With regard to that’ said the Professor, ‘you see the few words of a
quotation are impressed on us with a much greater intensity than the
text of a long piece we are reading continuously. This intensity there-
fore is incongruous, it makes the quotation almost shine out from the
page ; it seems a new patch on an old garment, a purpureas pannus. As
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98
you read a poet you are more and more raised to his level, you breathe
his air, you accustom yourself, till things seem less striking and beautiful
than when sharply contrasted with a lower, at all events a different,
style, as they were in the quotation. All this is intimately akin to what
I have been thinking about beauty. I need do no more than ask you
to see it is again a question of comparison, for we must not wander on
to first principles just now, till our present point is settled.’
‘Yes there is a comparison of a certain kind, I see’ said Hanbury.
‘Sometimes however, said Middleton ‘one does imagine a quotation
to be a whole when it is only a part. The effect is curious. 1 think what
I mean would be explained by what you were saying. I have Inoticed
sometimes this effect with regard to those quotations and Itags of
poetry and so on one sees added to the titles of pictures in the cata-
logue of the Academy. Suppose one saw this stanza of Sl^elley’s
chosen —
Music when sweet voices die \
Vibrates in the memory
Odours when sweet violets sicken
Live within the sense tliey quicken.*
Now if one imagined this stanza was a single thought and the whole
poem, or what, though opposite to that, would in another way be as
bad, four lines namely out of some piece in the metre of his lines
written among the Euganean hills, how greatly would the effect lose,
unless I am mistaken, of that beauty it has when you add the next
stanza —
Rose-leaves when the rose is shed
Are heap’d for the beloved’s bed
And so thy thought when thou art gone
Love himself shall slumber on.
You then know the poem is complete in these two stanzas. In propor-
tion to the shortness of a finished poem one may say is the emphasis of
each verse. It seems to me that the feeling what is the precise due
emphasis, though a less important point, is almost as truly a point of
noble poetry as the words on which the emphasis is to be laid. Pathos
or majesty, I should imagine, demand some considerable emphasis;
you could hardly have them given casually : while on the other hand
over-emphasis is painful, sensational, if you understand me.’
‘Quite’ said the Professor. ‘Sonnet-writing demands this feeling you
speak of A sonnet should end, or at all events may very effectively
end, with a vigorous emphasis. Shakspere’s end with an emphasis of
pathos impressed in a rhyming couplet. I would use these as a strong
instance of the relative character of beauty. On the one hand the son-
net would lose if you put two other lines instead of that couplet at the
ON THE ORIGIN OF BEAUTY
99
end, on the other the couplet would lose if quoted apart, so as to be
without the emphasis which has been gathering through the sonnet
and then delivers itself in those two lines seen by the eye to be final or
read by the voice with a deepening of note and slowness of delivery.
Wordsworth’s sonnets seem to me sometimes to end too casually.’
‘I must not allow anything against Wordsworth’ said Hanbury:
‘otherwise I agree. Yes, 1 have noticed there is a proper character
belonging to beginning and ending lines which should not be mis-
placed ; I have noticed it, as Mr. Middleton says, in the Academy
catalogue. If you attribute by mistake the emphasis to a beginning
line, or to an ending line that — I don’t know what to call the feeling
1 have about the beginnings of some poems.’
‘It is a sort of pleasurable expectancy, I think, sometimes’ said the
Professor, ‘and sometimes an artificial low pitch which you feel will be
deserted by a flight or rise into a higher one presently.’
‘Yes, that is very much it. In either case if you attribute the peculiar
character of the one to the other you misapprehend it and the beauty
is partly lost — I allow.’
‘Weir said the Professor to Middleton, ‘you and Hanbury have
worked this out for me and I have had the pleasure of hearing my
system developed in my silence.’
‘We can’t say that, I fear’ said Middleton.
‘And now’ went on the Professor ‘I need not ask Hanbury that
question, whether I am to consider the stanza he quoted by itself or
with reference to the rest of the poem, any more, for I am sure he
would say he had meant with reference to the rest of the poem.’
‘Yes’ said he ‘I thought you knew the poem well ; everybody does;
and so I quoted only one verse. It is the spirit which I want to hear
treated on your system, and that runs through all the poem. However,
that being understood, I suppose it will be shorter to examine one
stanza than the whole poem.’
‘Well then’ said the Professor, ‘before we pass on, we understand
that the collective efTect of a work of art is due to the effect of each
part to the rest, in a play of each act to the rest, in a smaller poem each
stanza to the rest, and so on, and that the addition or loss of any act
or stanza will not be the addition or loss of the intrinsic goodness of
that act or stanza alone, but a change on the whole also, either for the
better or for the worse necessarily. It depends however on the nature
of the work what will be the importance of a gain or loss of this kind :
I suppose that it will be greatest where the connection is strong, where
the unity is strongly marked, that is a unity not of spirit alone but a
structural one, — ’
‘Stay’ said Hanbury, ‘what is structural unity?’
‘Well, a sonnet is an instance. It must be made up of fourteen lines :
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if you were to take a line out, that would be an important loss to the
structural unity.’
‘Ah yes. That sort of unity everyone could preserve, I suppose, and
also at all events enough unity of plot to make a play intelligible. Unity
of spirit to be well kept needs power, you would say.*
‘Yes. In the particular case before us I do not mean to say perhaps
that the unity of the poem would lose much by the loss or addition of
a stanza, beyond — ’
‘Oh!’ cried Hanbury.
‘Beyond, my enthusiastic friend, the loss of the intrinsic valup of the
stanza, which would be very great, I was going to say. And noW I must
come to closer quarters. I am going to make a swoop, Hanbury, a fell
swoop, at rhythm, metre, and rhyme.’ A
‘Ah, if you were to have everything structural your own weW, the
main point would still be untouched.’ said Hanbury. \
‘I suppose however’ said Middleton ‘every admission widen^ the
circle of things accounted for by the theory.’
‘Yes: well let him swoop.’
‘We must be dialectical again then’ said the Professor. ‘You think
these things beautiful, do you not, rhythm, metre, and rhyme?’
‘Of course I do ; everybody does. Swoop away’ said Hanl)ury.
‘And what is rhythm? Is it not the repetition of a regular sequence
of syllables either in accent or quantity?’
‘Therepetitionofa regular sequence of syllables. If 1 understand, yes.’
Well said the Professor ‘a trochee is a sequence of long and short;
an anapaest is a sequence of short and short and long. These sequences
are technically called feet, are they not ? The repetition of them makes
language rhythmical. The repetition of trochees gives a trochaic
rhythm, of anapaests an anapaestic rhythm, and so on.’
‘I understand.’
You remember we agreed that regularity was the consistency or
agreement or likeness either of a thing to itself or of several things to
each other. Rhythm therefore is a instance of regularity, is it not?’
‘Yes.’
Of exact, absolute regularity ?’ asked the Professor. ‘Must each
anapaest be exactly like the next?’
Why yes. If it were not, one of the two would be an anapaest no
longer but some other foot.’
Let us see. We will try some English trochees, accentual trochees.
Odours when sweet violets sicken
Live within the sense they quicken.
Is each foot there like the next exactly?’
Yes, with certain allowances. Although
our English poetry is
ON THE ORIGIN OF BEAUTY
xoi
accentual, quantity does play some not very well recognised part in it,
and this makes it perhaps less regular than classical poetry, though
indeed very likely accent may have played the same part in that. For
this reason and also because it is made of two words, the foot when
sweet is not exactly the counterpart of odours or sicken.^
‘That is very good, but I did not mean that. I will consider them as
strictly regular as you like. Nothing else ?’
‘Except that violets is not a trochee at all but a dactyl. That is a
licence.’
‘An alternative foot merely’ said the Professor; ‘much as in the
hexameter you may use the dactyl and spondee as alternatives in the
first four places. I do not mean that either. Now you remember I
wished beauty to be considered as regularity or likeness tempered by
irregularity or difference : the chestnut-fan was one of my instances.
In rhythm we have got the regularity, the likeness ; so my aim is, as
rhythm is agreed to be beautiful, to find the disagreement, the diffe-
rence, in it. Do you still see none?’
‘No, none. What is it?’
‘This, my dear Hanbury. The accentual sequence (which we call a
trochee) in odours is the same as in when sweet or in sicken^ but the foot is
not exactly like them simply because it is made of a different word.
Odoms is not the same word as sicken^ therefore the foot odours is not the
exact counterpart of the foot sicken. It has the same sequence of ac-
centuation, but illustrated in different syllables. Rhythm therefore is
likeness tempered with difference, is it not ?’
‘Yes, it is so. Well but — No : you are right. How could I not see that,
I wonder.’
‘And the beauty of rhythm is traced to the same causes as that of the
clicstnut-fan, is it not so?’
‘Yes it is.’
‘Now for metre.’ said the Professor, ‘Metre is the repetition of cer-
tain regular sequences of rhythm, is it not? the combination of pieces
of rhythm of certain lengths, equal or unequal.’
‘Oh yes, if you define metre that way. A metre is a whole of which
each rhythmic foot is a part, or if you like feet are the members of lines
and lines of metre. But I give up metre ; go on to rhyme.’
‘What is rhyme?’ said the Professor. ‘Is it not an agreement of
sound ?’
‘With a slight disagreement, yes’ broke in Hanbury. ‘I give up
rhyme too.’
‘Let me however’ said the Professor ‘in the moment of triumph
insist on rhyme, which is a short and valuable instance of my prin-
ciple. Rhyme is useful not only as shewing the proportion of disagree-
ment joined with agreement which the car finds most pleasurable.
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but also as marking the points in a work of art (each stanza being con-
sidered as a work of art) where the principle of beauty is to be strongly
marked, the intervals at which a combination of regularity with dis-
agreement so very pronounced as rhyme may be well asserted, the
proportions which maybe well borne by the more markedly, to the less
markedly, structural. Do you understand?’
‘Yes’ said Middleton. ‘In fact it seems to me rhyme is the epitome of
your principle. All beauty may by a metaphor be called rhyme, may
it not?’
‘Indeed’ said the Professor, ‘when explanation is added, I have not
thought of any way so compendious of putting my principle, ifhank
you for it.’ \
‘Well and I will make a clean sweep’ said Hanbury. ‘Assonance is
not an English practice, and in this particular stanza of Wordswqrth’s
what alliteration there is is perhaps scarcely alliteration for alliipra-
tion’s sake, but I will give up those things to save you any further
trouble, and whatever else is structural in poetry. You will account for
them all your own way, I see. Structure is artificial and does not re-
quire genius : The expression and spirit of my stanza are Wordsworth’s
own and these have to be explained yet. I would put it if you liked in
an unrhythmical, unmetrical, unrhyming shape, and it would then
be beautiful prose, except so far as my clumsiness might spoil it in the
conversion.’
‘Ah, that is more than I ever asked of you’ said the Professor. ‘No
one’s thoughts need be expected to look well if the channel he chose to
convey them by be changed for another.’
‘Wordsworth’s will however’ said Hanbury. ‘He held that good
poetry, if the structural part were taken away, would make good prose.
Suppose I try. —
Blithe New-comer, I have heard thee, even now I hear thee and my
heart rejoices. O Cuckoo! is it Bird I must call thee or a wandering
Voice?*
‘You are generous’ said the Professor. ‘The changes necessary to
make it unrhythmical have inevitably destroyed some of the grace of
expression, but not so much of it, I fear, as I shall hope to make you
give up before we come to the ultimate feeling and spirit of the poem.’
‘Well, attack it your own way.’
‘First then I must ask you whether it is not necessary in things of
sense that the parts of every whole must either pass into one another or
else be divided from one another.’
‘Yes they must : logically, I mean, I answer that all things must of
course either be close to other things or not close to them. But I do not
understand the drift of the question,’
ON THE ORIGIN OF BEAUTY
103
‘No, I will explain’ said the Professor. ‘Take some simple figures,
circle and triangle. The circle is made by a continuous line, the triangle
by three lines which meet each other. And so arabesques must be made
either of a continuous line, or if you like to say so, lines, or else of
non-continuous lines.’
‘Or both’ said Hanbury.
‘Or both ; that is, the arabesque or picture or whatever it is may be
compounded of continuous and non-continuous lines; all but the
simplest shapes are so, generally speaking. Only you understand that
all figures must be composed of continuous or of non-continuous lines
or of both.’
‘Have you not forgotten dots?’ asked Middleton. ‘You may orna-
ment by means of dots alone, and though you might not be able to do
much that is complex in that way, you may help and touch up and
emphasise more elaborate pictures by means of dots.’
‘How could one ornament in dots?’ asked Hanbury.
‘Out of five dots arranged in a particular way you make a cross, may
you not ? There is — what I was thinking of in especial — a very simple
and pretty pattern to be made out of dots, by arranging them, as it
were, at the three angles of a triangle, thus’ — and he dotted his mean-
ing down on paper — . — ‘in fact making the sign of because in
Mathematics. This is the pattern on a girl’s dress in an etching of
Rossetti’s, the frontispiece to Miss Rossetti’s Goblin Market,'^ if you
have seen it.’
‘Ah, I had forgotten the pattern’ said Hanbury.
‘1 had not thought of dots certainly’ said the Professor, ‘but I think
they need give us little trouble. They may be regarded as the extreme
case of non-continuous or disjoined lines, may they not? And when
they are grouped into patterns they shape out or suggest the figures
of which they are the extremities, as your five dots suggest a cross and
your three a triangle, which might be represented respectively by two
straight lines at right angles cutting each other, and three straight
lines — well I need not go on. Might I stop for a moment to point out
the exemplification of my theory given by an analysis of the triangle
dot pattern ? You will, of course, say that the dots thus arranged are
prettier on the girl’s dress than actual triangles would be. And why is
this? I should like to consider it as being because, while whatever
beauty a triangle may have is suggested to the eye, there is added the
further element of beauty in the contrast between the continuity,
the absolutely symmetrical continuity, of the straight lines which are the
sides of the suggested triangle, and the discontinuity, if I may use the
word, the emphasised extreme discontinuity, of the three dots.’
Hanbury said with a smile ‘You would raise the whole country to
bring grist to that mill’
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104
‘A very harmless excitement’ said the Professor opening his hands
outwards ‘if I compel nobody to buy my flour.’
‘It seems to me we are getting it as fast as we can. But go on.’
‘Yes. We may consider then that all figures are made of continuous
or of non-continuous lines or of both. And the same will apply to
colours : they must either pass into one another or else be immediately
contrasted without transition ; and to shading : we must either gradate
or immediately oppose black and white, or at all events two different
shades. Stop me if you disagree.’
‘It is your results I disagree with’ said Hanbury.
‘Thanks. “Her very frowns are sweeter far” — . And of music may
say the same. Sounds must either pass from note to note, as wind does
in a cranny or as may be done with the string of a violin, or notes\may
follow each other without transition as on the piano. Well this\will
apply to all things I suppose. Never mind for the time what this h^s to
do with my theory: you can allow, whatever theory is true about
beauty, and whatever importance you attach to the fact, much or
little, that it is a. fact, namely that any change in things, any difference
between part and part, must be either transitional or abrupt.’
‘Yes it is.’
‘Then of the many divisions one might make of beautiful things, I
shall consider that there is one, never mind how unimportant, of
transitional and abrupt. I think I would call it, though I am afraid
you will laugh at the terms, a division into chromatic and diatonic
beauty. The diatonic scale, you know, leaves out, the chromatic puts
in, the half-notes. Of course in Music the chromatic scale is not truly
chromatic ; it is only nearer to a true chromatic scale than the diatonic
is : but that you will understand. Now therefore we may arrange under
these two heads many artificial forms, especially, as we are particu-
larly on that subject, poetical forms, which belong to either of them :
for I think you will see that the division is not in truth unimportant,
when we have made this distribution. But first I must ask some more
questions. All like things are also unlike, are they not?’
‘I suppose they are.’
‘And all unlike things are also like, are they not?’
‘Let me see’ said Hanbury.
‘Well, things are like by virtue of their having some property in
common, are they not? Now any two things, however unlike, have
something in common, if only we take a wide enough basis of compari-
son : one knows that from Logic. And in the same way any two things,
however like, have some difference from each other, as, if they are
absolutely like in all other respects, they cannot be in the same place
at the same time. Is it not so?’
‘Quite so.’
ON THE ORXGIN OF BEAUTY
*05
‘Likeness therefore implies unlikeness, does it not, and unlikeness
likeness?’
‘Yes.’
‘And we may compare things in three ways, first, things that we
regard as like to find their difference, next, things that we regard as
unlike to find their likeness, and last, things about which we are not
wholly decided to find both their likeness and unlikeness. This third is
the way of comparison proper to philosophy, to science ; the other two
to art. You may in art mark the likeness of two things, as in simile, or
the difference, as in antithesis, but you do not bring them together to
say they are partly like, look, and partly unlike, do you ?’
‘No, certainly not.’
‘There are no doubt in poetry’ went on the Professor ‘instances of
comparisons of that third sort in which both likeness and unlikcness
are deliberately regarded, but these are far from shewing the opposite
of what I have just said, namely that poetry delights in single likeness
or single unlikeness, if we look into them ; for it will be found that they
make of each resemblance a reason for surprise in the next difference
and of each difference a reason for surprise in the next resemblance ;
and yet or such words run before each new point of comparison, and
resemblances and antitheses themselves are made to make up a wider
antithesis. One remembers such things in Pope, but I cannot give a
better instance than Denham’s well-known couplet. He wishes to
compare the majestic qualities of the river Thames to the same quali-
ties in other things, and yet shew that they are in this case unaccom-
panied by those kindred or contingent qualities which lessen their
value where they are found. He says it is
Though deep yet clear, though gentle yet not dull,
Strong without rage, without o’erflowing full.’*
‘Yes I understand.’
‘By the way’ said the Professor ‘what makes those lines doubly
ingenious is not generally knowm and is lost by their being quoted
alone. It is that there is a further comparison: he says he wishes his
verse might be like his theme, ‘though deep yet clear’ and so on. But
to return. When two things are marked as being like in poetry they
are understood to have been considered unlike before, and when
tliey are contrasted they are understood to have been viewed as like
before. Is it not so ?’
‘Yes I see. If I may interrupt, is not this a good instance of that third
kind of comparison you spoke of? —
— ^facies non omnibus una,
ncc diversa tamen, qualis decet esse sororum.’^
lo6 EARLY NOTE-BOOKS
‘It is. Then there are practically only these two kinds of comparison
in poetry, comparison for likeness’ sake, to which belong metaphor,
simile, and things of that kind, and comparison for unlikeness’ sake,
to which belong antithesis, contrast, and so on. Now there is a con-
venient word which gives us the common principle for both these
kinds of comparison — Parallelism. Hebrew poetry, you know, is
structurally only distinguished from prose l)y its being paired off in
parallelisms, subdivided of course often into lower parallelisms. This
is well-known, but the important part played by parallelism of ex-
pression in our poetry is not so well-known : I think it will sui|prise
anyone when first pointed out. At present it will be enough tp re-
member that it is the cause of metaphor, simile, and antithesis, to see
that it is anything but unimportant. Parallelism then, that term bIping
now understood, we put under the head of diatonic beauty; ur^der
that of chromatic beauty come emphasis, expression (in the sens^ it
has in Music), tone, intensity, climax, and so on. When I say emphasis
and intensity I am speaking incorrectly in strictness, for they may be
given abruptly of course, so as to come under the other head ; but
terminology in this baby science is defective : perhaps tone or expres-
sion best gives the field of chromatic beauty.’
‘But is that not rather begging the question’ said Hanbury, ‘to
speak of diatonic beauty and chromatic beauty?'
‘I will in future’ said the Professor ‘speak of diatonwn and chroma-
tism, if you will f)ardon the words. Talking of the latter, it is hard from
the nature of the thing to lay one’s finger on examples ; but I think you
will feel it plays an important part in art.’
‘Certainly’ said Hanbury. ‘But there is a cpiestion I want to ask. All
these things, metaphor, simile, antithesis, tone, expression, and the
others you have named, are found in prose as well as in poetry, as a
rule more sparingly no doubt, but yet so that many prose passages
have for instance more metaphor and antithesis than passages I could
easily find of equal length in poetry. What difference of principle then
is there between prose and poetry ?’
‘The plain difference which strikes all is what we call verse, is it
not ? It is that poetry has a regular structure and prose has not’ said the
Professor.
‘O but you do not mean to say there is no more than that, no subtler
difference than that. Upon my word that is a beggarly difference.’
‘Ah, my friend, this is a point on which I know I must look for more
pelting than on any other. I foresee I shall be told a string of sublime
unlaborious definitions of poetry, that Poetry is this and Poetry is that,
and that I am not to vex the Poet’s mind with my shallow wit, for I
cannot fathom it, and that the divine faculty is not to be degraded to
the microscope and the dissecting knife, and that wherever a flower
ON THE ORIGIN OF BEAUTY
107
expands and dedicates its beauty to the sun there, there is Poetry, and
that I am a Positivist (as I do not object to be called in a way), and
that I am a fingering slave and would peep and botanise upon my
mother’s grave, and that I am the carrion vulture and wait, or do not
wait, to tear the Poet’s heart before the crowd, and that I am a
Philistine of an aggravated specious kind, knd that Shakspere and
Wordsworth and Tennyson and many others have uttered curses on
rne, and that my only reward will be that I shall be cankered and
rivelled together and crisped up by the hate of hate, the scorn of scorn,
which the Poet, the emphatic authentic ideal Poet, will treat me with.
Dear me, I seem to myself to have become poetically and vividly
descriptive of that last effect in my energetic forecast. Yes, I see it all
with a glassy countenance. And you who made such flattering pro-
mises have cast the first stone. But do your worst : let me spell poet
with a little p and perish. This is a shuttlecock that once did not dis-
dain in the intervals of its flights to tread the vellum ; now, flown with
sublimities and “winged with desire”, it has gone to its natural clouds.
There, Hanbury, is my farewell tribute to you in half-rhythmical
prose.’
‘Remember please’ said Middleton ‘that I am alternative with Mr.
Hanbury. I am anxious to hear the distinction between poetry and
prose stated.’
‘The lowest view of prose’ said the Professor ‘would make it stand
to poetry as a trade to an art, or, if you like better, as an art to a fine
art ; but this view could only in fact be true of the barest, most utili-
tarian prose. Beyond this all prose is in some degree or other artificial,
aims at beauty, I presume, and uses, as our friend himself pointed out,
the same unstructural forms as poetry does for that end. The truth I
believe was that Hanbury thought of noble verse (or as some people
say poetry, who call what is inferior only verse\^ of noble verse, the work
of genius, with common uninteresting prose the work of a common-
place or utilitarian pen ; and with that view no wonder he thought
my words unworthy and levelling. But at that rate one might just as
fairly compare doggrel or commonplace verse with noble and elo-
quent prose, such as Burke wrote or Plato or as Shelley's preface to
Adonais. No; in comparing prose and poetry, it must be common-
place prose and commonplace verse, or noble prose and noble verse.
If therefore by poetry you understand all verse, we may define it as
differing from prose by having a continuous and regular artificial
structure, the nature cf which we will consider in a minute ; if by
poetry you mean only noble verse, then let us define verse as above,
and merely add that poetry is a particular case of it, namely the case
of its being noble or successful. As for the nature of the artificial
structure, from what we agreed before I think I may conclude you
io8 EARLY NOTE-BOOKS
will say that rhythm, metre, rhyme, alliteration, assonance, and what-
ever other structural properties may belong to verse, are cases of
strictly regular parallelisms. Is it not so?’
‘Quite so’ said Middleton.
‘Verse and artificial prose then’ said the Professor ‘are arts using
the medium of words, and verse is distinguished from prose as employ-
ing a continuous structural parallelism, ranging from the technically
so-called parallelism of the Psalms to the intricate structure of Greek
or Italian or English verse.’
‘Of course’ saidHanbury ‘I do not object to this. All this k very
true, I dare say. But there is one thing which you do not seem td allow
or account for at all. You seem to think that the difference between
the best prose, we will say, and the best verse is only that one his the
advantage of a continuous artificial structure, in fact that the advan-
tage of poetry over prose may be expressed by the intrinsic valine of
that structure, that is, of verse. But now is it not always assumed that
the highest literary efforts, creative of course I mean, have been made
in verse and not in prose? If you want examples of the deepest pathos
and sublimity and passion and any other kind of beauty, do you not
look for them in verse and not in prose? Surely this is not because one
thinks one may as well have the pathos or sublimit)' or whatever it is
with verse as without, just as one would say the best of tea was better
with sugar than without.’
‘I had not in fact overlooked this' said the Professor; ‘but you are
quite right to bring it forward. You sec, as others have seen, that
genius works more powerfull)' under the constraints of metre and rhyme
and so on than without, tliat it Ls more effective when conditioned than
when unconditioned. It is far too late tonight to enter on a discussion
of this subject, but I think I shall be able to make good my defence for
considering the difference between prose and poetry what I have done.
I was giving, if you remember, only a definition, a scientific definition,
of poetry : now the fact you speak of is very striking no doubt, but it is
either to be considered an accident of poetry or else, what is the
truer way of putting it, the logical result of the conditions of poetry';
to know about poetry we must know that, but we are not to put it in the
definition, are we? It Ls too late, as I say, to discuss this now, but one
may put the cause roughly like this, that the concentration, the in-
tensity, which is called in by means of an artificial structure brings into
play the resources of genius on the one hand, and on the other brings
us to the end of what inferior minds have to give us.’
‘In the lower levels of art’ said Middleton ‘all artists, great and
little, as Sir Joshua Reynolds says, are alike ; but every new level ex-
hausts and distinguishes. Greatness is measured by the powerful action
of mind under what we look on as difficulties.’
ON THE ORIGIN OF BEAUTY
log
‘Very true’ said Hanbury, ‘but what has the concentration to do
with it?’
‘It works thus, I suppose’ said the Professor : ‘everyone feels that it
is useless to write in metre, for instance, if you are only to say the same
as you might without it. Besides the emphasis which metre gives calls
for point and emphasis of expression. I think this is enough for the
present, and we may turn to our enquiries again. Let me see : where
were we? O yes, we were speaking of chromatism and diatonism in
poetry. We agreed, if you remember, to place expression and all that
that implies under the former head, and under the latter parallelism
both structural and unstructural. I said, you know, that I thought the
great frequency and importance of parallelism (the same which in a
recognised, rather more artificial and structural, shape is the ground-
plan of Hebrew poetry) was little understood. I wish I had time to
shew this by analysing a number of examples, but — ’
‘Why, I hope’ said Hanbury ‘if there is not time now you will do it
another day, and explain some other things besides ; for I have come
so far that, even if I disagree, I should l:>e anxious to hear how all
things are accounted for on your system. Perhaps I might hear at any
rate what I want to know in your next term’s lectures, for I shall have
leisure then.’
‘Earlier, if you wish; as early as you like. We are all only too glad
to get a listener. A listener though! 1 should say a shuttlecock, an
interlocutor, an anything that has all the arduous part of the business
of system-making, all the tossing to and fro, while I sit at ease and do
myself the listening. But for these parallelisms : I may choose a few
examples only tonight ; but perhaps when I have shewn you how to
look you will find yourself an abundance of them at home, especially
in lyrical poetry which lives in them ; and I think you will find they
increase in number and distinctness with the rise of passion. Not to
look further, let us take Shelley’s little piece, which has served us
before now tonight. What idea does the poem express? to speak
vaguely, it is the place of memory in love. But if we look closer we find
the idea, which is summed in the last two lines, is shaped as an anti-
thesis —
— thy thoughts, when thou art gone,
Love itself shall slumber on.*
‘Can you call it a deliberate antithesis?’ said Hanbury. ‘It is beau-
tiful, but so simple — “thy thoughts, when thou art gone”, I mean, —
that it is doubtful whether it could have been put more simply.’
‘Well’ said the Professor, ‘let us consider. In writing this poem
Shelley must either have put before his mind an idea which he wishes
to embody in words, namely, as we said before, the place of memory
110
EARLY NOTE-BOOKS
in love, or else the idea rose in the forms of expression which we read
in the poem in his mind, thought and expression indistinguishable.
The latter I believe to be the truer way of regarding composition, but
be that as it may, one or the other must have been the case, must it not ?’
‘I suppose so.’
‘Very well. Then if the first, out of all the conceivable ways which
might have been taken to express a fertile idea he chose this one : so
the antithesis of ‘ ‘thy thoughts, when thou art gone” pleased him more
than other imaginable less antithetical ways of expression, and was
therefore deliberate. But if the second, then his thought rose ajt once
into his mind in that form, which shews that a singularly beautiful
expression of poetry has of its essence an antithetical shape: — for that
the antithesis is essential to the beauty you can easily prove by seeing
how you destroy the pathos by leaving out the words “when ^thou
art gone”. Try it in prose : which is more beautiful ? — “Love itself $hall
slumber on thoughts of thee, when thou art gone” or “Love itself
shall slumber on the memory of thee”.’
‘Reduction into prose’ said Hanbury ‘is a rough and ready sort of
test, as you say. However I think you are right. Go on.’
‘Yes. The idea of the piece then is thrown into the shape of an
antithesis. Now this is illustrated in three metaphors, making with the
couplet in which the idea is expressed a system of parallelisms in four
members, the metaphors being taken from music, scented flowers, and
rose-leaves. But now see further the subordination of parallelism to
parallelism. Each of these metaphors contains an antithesis within
itself — “Music, when sweet voices die”, “Odours, when sweet violets
sicken”, and “Rose-leaves, when the rose is shed” and answer to the
antithesis in “thy thoughts, when thou art gone.” And you must not
say that the antithesis is necessary to their intelligil)ility, for one
answers at once that it is part of the substance of their beauty besides.’
‘Yes’ said Hanbury, ‘that poem is made up of parallelisms. All
poetry however is not so artificially constructed, 1 am sure. Well, well,
I remember you are at present only shewing their importance in
poetry, not their necessity. — I once saw that thing of Shelley’s beauti-
fully illustrated in the Water-colours E.xhibition some few years ago.
I forget the name of the painter.’
‘Smallfield’* suggested Middleton.
‘Yes’ said the Professor, ‘it was Smallfield. It was an exquisite thing.
It is seldom one sees a picture shewing so much imagination of the
painter's own which yet in no way draws aside the expression of the
sentiment of its text. It was full of what one calls poetry in painting and
other arts : it is not in fact that the quality belongs to poetry and is
borrowed by the other arts, but that it is in larger proportion to the
whole amount there than anywhere else, and that, for reasons which
ON THE ORIGIN OF BEAUTY
III
would take some time to enquire into, the accessories without it
collapse more completely and obviously than in the other arts.’
‘It was full of beauty, you think’ said Hanbury.
‘Yes.’
‘And closely expressing the spirit of Shelley’s piece, you said, did
you not?’
‘Yes. I see you are setting a trap for me to walk into. Are you
not?’
‘Yes I am. Now where were the parallelisms?’
‘O but’ said the Professor ‘it is very unreasonable of you, when it
takes us so long to analyse but one stanza, to wish to make me plunge
in illustration into the wide sea of another art. You know in illustrating
one art by another we do not carry over the structure of the art to be
illustrated. Now structurally painting is more chromatic than poetry.
However let us return to our examples of parallelism of sense in poetry.
Before we come to Wordsworth’s poem I will take but one poem and
that not at first sight fuller of parallelisms than other lyrical poetry
(when I say, at first sight, I mean that it really is not fuller of them
than other lyrical poetry, not so full as much is; but I am using a
moderate, not an extreme, instance). Do you know a poem called The
Nix^ by Richard Garnett? I saw it in the collection by Coventry
Patmore called The Children's Garland. I think 1 can repeat it.
The crafty Nix, more false than fair,
Whose haunt in arrowy Iscr lies,
She envied me my golden hair,
She envied me my azure eyes.
The moon in silvery cyphers traced
The leaves and on the waters play’d ;
She rose, she caught me round the waist
She said, Gome down wdth me, fair maid.
She led me to her crystal grot,
She set me in her coral chair,
She waved her hand, and I had not
Or azure eyes, or golden hair.
Her locks of jet, her eyes of flame
Were mine, and hers my semblance fair;
*0 make me, Nix, again the same
O give me back my golden hair.*
She smiles in scorn, she disappears,
And here I sit and see no sun,
My eyes of fire are quench’d in tears,
And all my darksome locks undone.
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EARLY NOTE-BOOKS
I wished to take this poem in place of better known things for several
reasons. I presume the author is not very well known, so we shall
estimate this piece — I do not at all say this is what one should always
do — on its single merits without reference to the author’s style : I at
least am in the position to do this. I must hope you will go along with
me in my admiration, for of course, in case you should not see beauty
in it, it will be no good to analyse it to shew how its beauty is brought
into being. But if I am allowed to presume on your feelings, I say, as
postulate for my after reasonings, that it is a charming poem. But the
feeling that is borne in upon me first about it is this, that k is so
essentially poetry. I will explain : it is not the power of the writer that I
am impressed with — that is what one feels before all things beades in
Dryden, who seems to take thoughts that are not by nature poetical, —
stubborn, and opaque, but under a kind of living force like firi they
are powerfully changed and incandescent : Dean Milman’s poetty" is
of this kind — ; nor is it the nobleness of the thoughts or the splendour of
the images brought forward, which might except for their concentra-
tion and elaboration perhaps have been put in prose ; but I seem to see
that the author has things put before him in a light that is precisely
that of poetry, that he is an absolute and unembarrassed instance of a
poet, or if we may put it in another way that he is a workman come
from his apprenticeship with the Muses skilled to perfection in his
trade and having made himself master of all that the science has to
give him. The poem is artificial, you see, but with that exquisite arti-
fice which does not in truth belong to artificial but to simple expres-
sion, and which, except in point of polish, is found in natural and
national ballad-making. This therefore is why I considered this piece
a good and a typical example out of many, because I seemed to feel
it was what a poet expressed as a poet, in the transparent, almost
spontaneous, artifice which alone can make a genuinely simple subject
palatable, — for where this is not used so openly, as in some of Words-
worth’s seemingly much more simple pieces, we shall find if we look
a subtle complexity of emotion at the bottom, not simplicity, which is
the secret of their beauty. Well, now let us pull the poem to pieces.
You see it turns on an antithesis : if w'e put the central idea, that one
central idea which critics say is what makes the essence of lyrical poetry,
in its most concrete pictorial light, wt shall find it is that of the trans-
formation of the golden hair and azure eyes with the black hair and
eyes of flame. This is the central idea and it is enforced also several
times in the expression of the poem. Then let us see the parallelisms
individually : first there is “more false than fair”, heightened of course
by the alliteration, always an aid in that way. Then the latter two
lines of that first stanza are a marked case ; they are, to avail myself of
what Mr. Middleton was saying, a rhyme — only the relative position
ON THE ORIGIN OF BEAUTY
”3
of the parts being changed. Then the description in the next two lines
is couched in a slighter parallelism,
The moon in silvery cyphers traced
The leaves, and on the waters play’d.’
‘Stay’ said Hanbury : ‘would not that make any two clauses coupled
by and into a parallelism ?’
‘Of course’ said the Professor ‘they are so strictly, but we take no
notice of it if it is, so to speak, only a utilitarian one. But you would say
perhaps that this case is so — that the writer had no intention of giving
beauty by that form of expression, but merely by the ideas. But I do
not think so : it was quite possible to have drawn the look of moon-
light in one clause, using more detail, but the nature of his subject,
the instinctive feeling of the requirements of the precise pitch of ideal-
ism in which that poem is written, led him to put it into a parallelism.
As soon as composition becomes formal and studied, that is as soon as
it enters the bounds of Art, it is curious to see how it falls into parallel-
isms. Read for instance the Exhortation in the Prayerbook, which
they say is full of repetitions, meaning by that, as we may now see, that
it uses parallelism to attain dignity but attains, shall we say? only
pomposity, because the members of the parallelism do not bear the
just proportion to each other.’
‘How do they not ?’
‘Because, if we are to keep up the metaphor of parallel lines, the
expressions are not only parallel but equal, which they should not be,
as a rule, to attain beauty — that is they are just the same thing in other
words. Let me see: “acknowledge and confess”, “sins and wicked-
ness”, “not dissemble nor cloke”, “assemble and meet together”,
“requisite and necessary”, “pray and beseech” — these are not very
artistic parallelisms. But let us go on. Another parallelism follows next,
which I pass over ; then in the third stanza two parallelisms play into
one another ; the first —
She led me to her crystal grot,
She set me in her coral chair.
She waved her hand,
and the other-
She waved her hand, and I had not
Or azure eyes or golden hair.
The last line being made of an independent parallelism of its own. And
there we see why we use or and or and nor and nor in that way in poetry
only and not in prose ; for prose has need sometimes to express alterna-
tives fully as strongly as poetry, but when it does it says either and or
EARLY NOTE-BOOKS
1 14
and neither and nor, which put the parallelism of sense strongly, but not
so strongly the parallelism of expression.’
‘Repeat the next stanza’ said Hanbury ; and when it was done he
said ‘One needs no analysis of that, I think, now : go on to the last.’
‘It is not made up merely’ said the Professor ‘of detached consecu-
tive parallelisms. Let us consider. The two terms of a parallelism make
a whole of beauty, but these wholes again may be the terms of a higher
whole; as so many lines make up each speech in a scene, so many
speeches each scene, so many scenes each act, so many acts the play,
and, on the Greek stage, four plays a tetralogy : I mean only that works
of art arc composite, having unity and subordination ; are they pot so ?’
‘Certainly, and each of the coordinates having a unity of tts own
towards its subordinates.’ \
‘Just so, and now for this carrion-vulture business and tearing the
last stanza anatomically. Of the whole stanza we may make two
unequal pieces, one being the first line, and the other the rest 6f the
stanza. These make the antithesis between the nLx and the maiden.
Each piece may be dismembered again, the first into “She smiles in
scorn” and “She disappears”, and the second, that has more articula-
tion, first unequally, one member being the second line of the stanza,
the other the last two lines, and afterwards each line may be divided
again.
And here I sit and see no sun
is just like
She smiles in scorn, she disappears
except that in that the absence of and gives more antithesis. And then
the antitheses of the last couplet how charming they are! how the
irony of her unhappiness is summed up in the eyes of fire being
quenched in tears! And for the darksome locks being undone, you
know how much use poetry makes of negative words and just for the
reason that they express an antithesis. —
Unhouseled, disappointed, unannealed.*
THE POSITION OF PLATO TO THE GREEK
WORLD
[An essay written for T. H. Green^
There need be no inconsistency on either side in seeing how Plato
or other thinkers whose position at any time has given them much
prominence both represent and contradict the times in which they
live. If we take instances we find in some the representative character
the more striking and in others the opposition, but without a want of
balance either in themselves or in their contemporaries being implied.
Does Shakspere express most the complexity and profusion of thought
given by the mixture of two systems in the revival which ended the
Middle Ages or the distress given by the loss of unity in the Reforma-
tion? We may say the first most, and this was what the world in
England generally alone felt for the time. On the other hand Words-
worth is felt rather to express the contradiction to the spirit of his times,
than to represent their tendency. In all such cases the same sequence of
feeling or thought makes them like their contemporaries, while their
reaching and exhibiting the conclusions sooner makes the opposition.
It is these contrasts and disparities which give complexity and interest to
the lives or writings of great thinkers soclearly beyond what they would
otherwise have had, making for instance their enthusiasm not free
from pathos or, if the proportions be the other way, their denunciations
from hope. What can be a better case of this than the position of Plato ?
As his writings are found to be full of thoughts which are not recon-
ciled and have since acquired definiteness in opposite systems, so his
philosophy and mind as compared with the Greek contemporary world
seem to offer opportunities for endless balancing, antithesis as well as
parallel.
It would be possible only to shew the directions in which such trains of
thought might be followed out, beginning at this one perhaps, how he
stands to the general culture of his age. No word seems so well to suit
the character of the time as Intellcctualism. A little earlier Intellect,
or better Genius, would be the most marked features of Greece, and to
this would logically succeed, where circumstances do not break the
sequence, an age of general culture, with an important change of
estimate, namely regard to works of genius less for themselves than for
the intellect implied in them, a loss technically speaking of the objec-
tive interest of things, and again of pleasure in realising by one’s own
action and by eager and conscious appreciation of others the force of
intellect. These tendencies then appear in Plato as they must appear.
ii6
EARLY NOTE-BOOKS
The dialogues shew exhaustive and unhurried demonstration, digres-
sions and objections, files of parallels used as proof where one would
express the point, and so on — the processes of development not being
laborious because the intellect is so flexible. And the conversation, the
discussion instead of unbroken announcement, the nature of this is to
bring the intellect in itself forward, touching it in every point and
shewing not force but versatility. So that the Sophists and Rhetori-
cians were only doing what Plato was doing. Yet no sooner has the
resemblance been seen than the antithesis follows, for while the desire
to have the intellect prepared for all positions, felt by all and thken in
hand by the Sophists, led to the drawing of commonplaces of argu-
ment and quickly deduced schemes of ethics, politics, etc, in Plato the
same wish leads to methods going much more to the root, namely a
complete and infallible education of the intellect, and, by me^ns of
that, the discovery of a few first principles from which systems might be
properly drawn. And again, great activity of thought at all times, in
this case activity for enjoyment of the thought and not of its results, is
to the multitude of the minds feeling it satisfying and engrossing — any
activity is so, — and the scepticism which goes with it cannot become
painful till this zest has passed away; but Plato was able to feel the
sadness of complex thought running freely to difierent conclusions
when the old unity of belief which gives meaning to every subordination
of thought and action was gone. Perhaps we may say that in raising
the new religion of the Ideal Good to fill the place of the old we feel
less his enthusiasm for the new truth, the One, the Good, or whatever
it is called, than his despair at the multiplicity of phenomena unex-
plained and unconnected,* the inconsistency of current speculations
on the side of enc^uiry, and the pettiness of the ideals of the poets on the
side of imagination. He found public opinion worse than any Sophist
for corrupting young men’s minds, and his only hope for politics was a
far-off, arduous and rigid scheme such as must always make its in-
ventor weary and incredulous himself, and besides, his own ideals could
not but be felt to be not satisfying and contained incompatibilities which
while they prove the comprehensiveness of his mind made the ideals
themselves less credible; so that we hear of his habitual melancholy.
His mission to his age seems to lie in two things, his treatment of the
mind, his method, and his application of thought, his results. Taking
the former first we may say of him that it Ls true what was specially
the case of Bacon, for new results of thought he began a new method,
and that, still like Bacon, it was ultimately rather the protest against
* On blank page opposite', ‘unexplained and unconnected,
— the heavy and the weary weight
Of all this unintelligible world,
the inconsistency etc.*
THE POSITION OF PLATO I17
the old method and the pointing a new way than the specific plan he
recommended which benefited the world. For under narrow conditions
dialectic in the hands of Socrates and in his own seemed to yield
marvellous results, but it is said that Plato himself ceased in the end
to insist on the only safety of this kind of enquiry. But its use was to
have shewn how to apply searching intelligence to all kinds of matter
and to press on the attention the beginnings of many speculations on
thought and its relation to outer things. So that though dialectic in
Plato's sense was used no longer he refined with intelligence the atmo-
sphere of thought for Aristotle to breathe.
Then for his system, one side of the truth is represented by the say-
ing that he asked the questions which philosophy has since been trying to
answer. For Platonism is that philosophy which never could be a system.
Again his relations to his age are expressed by this, for the Sophists had
systems and his successors and Aristotle had systems, but between
these it was necessary for the whole field of speculation to be flooded
and for the older forms to be quite fused before they could satisfy the
advance of philosophy. Not of course that he did not have his own
systems in logic, ethics, politics etc, but their use was not as defensible
deductions from premises, as systems are understood to be, and as
systems he himself almost discredits them; and accordingly as systems
Aristotle treats them with the same literality as Plato used with the
Sophists, both of them legitimately as needful for disposing of philo-
sophies not so much really opposed to their own as belonging to
another attitude or another feeling of mind.
Another side of Plato’s bearing to the Greek world would allow too of
much example and counter-statement. He cuts short the rhetoricians
and shews how oratory covers fallacies and he puts tlie poets out of
his commonwealth; yet how deeply his teaching Ls associated with
that which goes beyond rhetoric into poetry and the indefinite sug-
gestions of metaphor and even the half rhythmical diction mentioned
by Aristotle : and the ideals he wishes us to accept, as the unearthly
love, arc made persuasive by the images he gives us for them.*
♦ Initialled
THE PROBABLE FUTURE OF METAPHYSICS
{An essay written during the Hilary Term (Jan.-March) i8S;]
The Positivists foretell and many other people begin to fear, the end of
all metaphysics is at hand. Purely material psychology is the rpta/cr^p*
foretold and feared.
But others point out that these are shortsighted expectations. The
things differ in kind and neither can be made to fall under the (other.
Material explanation cannot be refined into explaining thought and
it is all to no purpose to show an organ for each faculty and a Jjierve
vibrating for each idea, because this only shows in the last detail \vhat
broadly no one doubted, to wit that the activities of the spirit are ^on-
veyed in those of the body as scent is conveyed in spirits of wine,
remaining still inexplicably distinct. Indeed it would be necessary first
in the material world to resolve force and matter into one thing and
then aftcrw’ards to approach that which to all appearance alone has
the power of disposing force itself, that is mind, and subsume that
too under the head of the material.
Still there is a second worst forecast, a view which will make future
metaphysics a disappointment though not an illusion. Psychology and
physiology may withdraw to themselves everything that is special and
detailed in the action of the mind and metaphysics will be left as the
mode by which we give the bare statement of there being another side
than the phenomenal when we regard things — and nothing more than
this, mere abstraction so far as any attempt at apprehending it goes,
and always to be pushed back to the outermost skyline of science.
This thought is well-founded so far as it foresees how psychology
will exercise its own office over almost all the field now held to belong
solely to metaphysics, but it is ill-founded in supposing an emptying
out and barrenness in metaphysics as a consequence. It will always
be possible to shew how science is atomic, not to be grasped and held
together, ‘scopeless’, without metaphysics : this alone gives meaning to
laws and sequences and causes and developments— things which stand
in a position so peculiar that we can neither say of them they hold in
nature whether the mind sees them or not nor again that they are
found by the mind because it first put them there.
The tide we may foresee will always run and turn between idealism
and materialism : this is clear from history, and historical generalisations
are true if anywhere in tracing the phases of speculation : but it is pos-
sible to draw wrong inferences from this. We should turn to the analogy
of the individual and that even the physical analogy. There is a parti-
THE PROBABLE FUTURE OF METAPHYSICS
”9
cular refinement, pitch, of thought which catches all the most subtle
and true influences the world has to give : this state or period is the
orthodoxy of philosophy — there is just such an orthodoxy in art the
sway of which is nothing comparative or a matter of words but real
and absolute and its decline may be dated to within a few years. This
orthodoxy lasts but a limited time ; it is like the freshness and strain
of thoughts in the morning : materialism follows, the afternoon of
thought, in which, just as in the afternoon poetry is lost on us if we
read, so we are blunted to the more abstract and elusive speculation.
It is not exactly that this weariness or slackening constrains individual
minds, though to some degree it does even constrain, but that the run
of thought in the age braces up and carries out what lies its own way
and discourages and minimises what is constitutionally against its
set : different times like a shifted light give prominence by turns to
different things.
But the opposition of the two schools or two tempers of thought
(under whatever names) will continue to be more intelligent as time
goes on, illusions about the bearing and import of lines of speculations
be less possible : the past indeed must have less and less power to hit
the needs of the present; still Hume’s reasoning perhaps will have
settled something and people will have a foresight even at the first
hint, when they come upon that kind of thought which runs upon the
concrete and the particular, which disintegrates and drops towards
atomism in some shape or other, to what this may be carried, how far
a seeming victory is likely to be final, and perhaps what sort of things
transcendent idealism will say in reasserting itself.
But to come to particulars, w^hat form will metaphysics take in the
immediate future ? They say there are three great seasons in the history
of philosophy, the first that of Plato, Aristotle, and the Schoolmen, the
second that of Bacon and physical science and Positivism, the third
that of Hegel and the philosophy of development in time. The first Ls
led l)y the ideas Form and Matter and even its lowest, its most material
matter is still half metaphysical and abstract ; the second is led by the
ideas Facts and Law and even its highest, its most formal expressions
are half physical and concrete ; the third is led by the ideas of Historical
Development, of things both in thought and fact detaching and diffe-
rencing and individualising and expressing themselves, of continuity
and of time. The first necessarily has a claim to be final and the second
makes the claim for its results ; as for the third it is in a sort of dilemma
that it must contradict itself whether it claims to be final or not. The
full sway then and application of this idea of development is foretold
as the philosophy of the immediate future. And this at least must be
allowed, that philosophy must not so much speak of right and wrong
in systems but must acknowledge its history and growth to itself and
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see that it is meaningless without such a history and growth. Only the
matter cannot be dropped here. There is an analogy : one sees that the
ideas so rife now of a continuity without fixed points, not to say saltus
or breaks, of development in one chain of necessity, of species having
no absolute types and only accidentally fixed, all this is a philosophy
of flux opposed to Platonism and can call out nothing but Platonism
against it. And this, or to speak more correctly Realism, is perhaps
soon to return.
One may even see, speaking hazardously, some points — ^three main
points — in which it will challenge the prevalent philosophy 6{ con-
tinuity or flux. The first is that of type or species. To the prevalent
philosophy and science nature is a string all the differences in Which
are really chromatic but certain places in it have become accidentally
fixed and the series of fixed points becomes an arbitrary scale\ The
new Realism will maintain that in musical strings the roots of chbrds,
to use technical wording, are mathematically fixed and give a standard
by which to fix all the notes of the appropriate scale : when points
between these are sounded the ear is annoyed by a solecism, or to
analyse deeper, the mind cannot grasp the notes of the scale and the
intermediate sound in one conception ; so also there are certain forms
which have a great hold on the mind and are always reappearing and
seem imperishable, such as the designs of Greek vases and lyres, the
cone upon Indian shawls, the honeysuckle moulding, the fleur-de-lys,
while every day we see designs both simple and elaborate which do not
live and are at once forgotten ; and some pictures we may long look
at and never grasp or hold together, while the compK)sition of others
strikes the mind with a conception of unity which is never dislodged :
and these things are inexplicable on the theory of pure chromatism or
continuity — the forms have in some sense or other an absolute exis-
tence. It may be maintainable then that species are fixed and to be
fixed only at definite distances in the string and that the developing
principle will only act when the precise conditions are fulfilled. To
ascertain these distances and to point out how they are to be mathe-
matically or ^z/oji-mathcinatically expressed will be one work of this
metaphysic.
A second point at issue may be the prevalent principle that know-
ledge is from the birth upwards, is a history of growth, and mounts from
the part to the whole. Realism will undoubtedly once more maintain
that the Idea is only given — whatever may be the actual form educa-
tion takes — from the whole downwards to the parts.
The last principle traverses modern thought generally and is wider
than the philosophy of continuity. A form of atomism like a stiffness or
sprain seems to hang upon and hamper our speculation : it is an over-
powering, a dLsproportioned sense of personality. It has been opposed
THE PROBABLE FUTURE OF METAPHYSICS
indeed but, as will happen, the opposing principle as all against the
grain of popular thought has suffered and come out too abstract,
unpregnant, and inefficient — Spinoza as they point out laudatur et
alget, has no disciples. The new school of metaphysics will probably
encounter this atomism of personality with some shape of the Platonic
Ideas.
THE POSSIBILITY OF SEPARATING
'qdLKrj FROM TToXiriK^ iTnarrjfirj^
[An essay written for R. Williams^ [?)i86f\
Two ambiguities entangle the question or two forms of the same. If
one looks at the rise of morals in history it comes, we are told, out of
the intercourse of men and not from the man ; and also if one looks at
the whole of morality as it exists now it will exactly cover the duties of
men to each other in all their developments and deductions. If both
things were quite true they would not prove that personal morality is the
same as political morality, and the failure of insight of whiep this
fallacy is an instance is being made by the Empirical and Utilitarian
schools to overrun the whole field of thought. To know l he growth from
first to last is not to know the thing which grows and to know all the parts
is not to know the whole. In the same way the first knowledge of natural
history came altogether from the hunting and pastoral life and the
animals which engage its attention. This knowledge is exact in pro-
portion to its interest, and it might have been maintained once that it
was the science of shepherds and graziers and hunters; when they
gave names to the successive years of the stag — brocket, pricket, and
the rest; but now these ages have lost any importance above other
facts of growth.
But however neither is strictly true. It is not true historically because
it explains only the general morality and the steps and slow changes
for the better, not the more brilliant side of ethical history, the
impulses of single men, and all the attractive difierence of the
subject.
And under the same head they overlook this, that personal morality
conditions political before political personal. The future of a perfectible
race, all moralists would say, is when all men will be good and happy.
By good you mean men who obey a good conscience. But political
morality has no business with a good conscience; w^hen its ideal is
attained then morality in itself will be worth least ; this is not its future,
but one only in which men will be happy. Happiness has but two
conditions, if we shut out the prepossessions we have got from personal
morality, as we ought to do — comfort and amusement : and these arc
what pure political ethics ought to aim at. But in fact there is the
historical carrying out of all this. A morality too simply political and
objective, as that of the ancients, does end in amusement. It hap-
pened with Athens and with the Roman empire, e.specially with the
Hellenised Levant. Amusement is what one means when one ventures
tlTHlKt AND POLITIKe EPISTSMk 123
to Speak of art as having any influence to speak of on the mass of the
world. Perhaps the first and most striking colour of the Roman empire
is the spread of amusement — the Circus shows, the theatres, the Public
gardens, Pompeii and the seaside places, the desertion of the country,
and other signs. The morality which took its spring from the individual
was thrown away in the midst of all this : Cynicism died almost like a
nine days’ wonder; Stoicism threw out men like Cato who were
portents ; the schemes which turned on brotherly love like those of
Epictetus, even when they guided the emperor, as happened with
Aurelius, could not help the world ; Christianity broke up the empire
in its success.
Still no one would deny that the political virtues were the first, and
that the unwinding of the idea of disinterested goodness from the com-
plex intercourse of men is the most important thing in the history of
ethics, only it is not quite the whole of it.
And no more will the political relations explain the whole of mora-
lity as it stands now. But this has to be remembered, that, if one takes
any premiss whatever which is true, the whole sum of deductions which
can be made from it — that is, its applications to all the matter of ethics —
will be the whole duty of man. Anyone who was possessed with the
Roman sense of duty to the father of the family or the Chinese awe for
parents or patriotism or universal love or sensibility to suffering or self-
respect or devotion to wife or husband would have no other way of per-
fectly fulfilling those duties which personally were the prepossession
unless by fulfilling all the rest. The right manner towards a father or
wife could not be strongly acquired without a habit of amiability, that is
universal amiability ; sensibility to suffering would require chastity even
in thought. Still one sees that the knowledge of the wider duties is
presupposed, for though the true devotion to a wife is not uxoriousness
yet that would be in itself what it would most naturally lead to. With the
premisses given above it is more or less clear that, though each in the
end involves all other duties, they are not capable alone of bearing all
the weight of morals ; but if instead of any of these we put the whole
relations of man to man, that is a much more plausible stand to take
and well wide enough to mislead.
There are two parts in moral action, the thing to be done and the
impulse to do it, and thLs enquiry about referring morals to the rela-
tions of man towards men of course only wishes to touch the thing to
be done and to say what that is. The Utilitarian view which acknow-
ledges but this latter side is too rude, and does not apprehend or
explain the points debated. Perhaps though the objection which is
palpable in this case is not altogether avoided by the better theory and
that every theory in fact is become half barbarous which looks at
the outward conditions of morality passing by the inward, and still
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124
pursues the comprehension of the idea ‘ vpos ropiovri Trrjpan V when
now the intention asks to be analysed.
It might very soon be objected to the political morality that there
were also religious relationships. And this at the same time may be set
aside, because perhaps if the premisses are granted the conclusions
follow and to admit these relationships is but widening the scope of the
theory we have already got and more adapting than abandoning it.
But we also hear of a man’s duties to himself, and, speaking purely in
the field of thought, it becomes a more serious question if the subject
has relations to himself than any change in the outer relations can
raise. Then some would think duty to oneself and self-respect and self-
love in a good sense are inaccurate phrases or only impartial applica-
tions to oneself of a general law not coming from oneself. Certainly it is
true that these ideas come in when most we objectify ourselves — still
to speak metaphysically — , and self-love becomes the reverse of sel-
fishness and self-respect of self-conceit, still more of vanity : for humi-
lity too comes of objectifying ourselves and comparing ourselves with
our betters. And we are more shocked with disgraceful unworthy
actions in others than in ourselves, being unprejudiced and seeing their
bearings all at one glance, and accordingly we have to put ourselves
outside ourselves to gain the same feeling. But out of the very words
there seems to arise a thought which gives another start to the reasoning.
An unworthy action is unworthy of something foregone, an ideal. Ideal
answers to idea : an idea is our thought of a thing as substantive, as
one, as holding together its own parts and conditions ; an ideal is the
thing thought of when it is most substantive and succeeds in being
distinctive and one and holding its parts or conditions together in its
own way. The unworthy action may be unworthy either of our ideal
of the man or of man generally : say it is of man generally ; but by this
you mean of man as other than brutes and have to see that morality
does not lie in the intercourse merely of living beings but of such beings,
and so are thrown back from what is relative to what is absolute and
substantive. And it is of course generally true that a knowledge of any
relation is barren without a knowledge of the terms of the relation in
themselves. Man comes into relation with other men but bringing with
him his properties and his accidents. Morality has already begun
with him before relations with others arise — scarcely in time but in
thought. Conscience or the Imperative working outwards find its
first matter in the man himself: a man can compare his today with
his yesterday, his aims with his results ; many things follow from man
being his own object. Gluttony and drunkenness are social vices too,
but this gives but a slight impulse of abhorrence : they make him not
himself; not a natural mind, for he is heavy and sleepy, not a natural
body, for he cannot keep his feet.
NOTES: FEB. 9, 1868
{From note-book headed ^ Motes on the history of Greek Philo-
sophy etc.’]
All words mean either things or relations of things : you may also say
then substances or attributes or again wholes or parts. Eg. man and
quarter.
To every word meaning a thing and not a relation belongs a passion
or prepossession or enthusiasm which it has the power of suggesting or
producing but not always or in everyone. This not always refers to its
evolution in the man and secondly in man historically.
The latter element may be called for convenience the prepossession
of a word. It is in fact the form, but there are reasons for being cautious
in using form here, and it bears a valuable analogy to the soul, one
however which is not complete, because all names but proper names
are general while the soul is individual.
Since every definition is the definition of a word and every word may
be considered as the contraction or coinciding-point of its definitions
we may for convenience use word and definition with a certain freedom
of interchange.
A word then has three terms belonging to it, opoi, or moments — its
prepossession of feeling ; its definition, abstraction, vocal expression or
other utterance ; and its application, ‘extension’, the concrete things
coming under it.
It is plain that of these only one in propriety is the word ; the third
is not a word but a thing meant by it, the first is not a word but some-
thing connotatively meant by it, the nature of which is further to be
explored.
But not even the whole field of the middle term is covered by the
word. For the word is the expression, uttering of the idea in the mind.
That idea itself has its two terms, the image (of sight or sound or scapes
of the other senses), which is in fact physical and a refined energy*
accenting the nerves, a word to oneself, an inchoate word, and
secondly the conception.
The mind has two kinds of energy, a transitional kind, when one
thought or sensation follows another, which is to reason, whether
actively as in deliberation, criticism, or passively, so to call it, as in
reading etc ; (ii) an abiding kind for which I remember no name, in
* That is when deliberately formed or when a thought is recalled, for when pro-
duced by sensation from without or when as in dreams etc it presents itself unbidden
it comes from the involuntary working of nature.
isG
EARLY NOTE-BOOKS
which the mind is absorbed (as far as that may be), taken up by, dwells
upon, enjoys, a single thought : we may call it contemplation, but it
includes pleasures, supposing they, however turbid, do not require a
transition to another term of another kind, for contemplation in its
absoluteness is impossible unless in a trance and it is enough for the
mind to repeat the same energy on the same matter.
Art exacts this energy of contemplation but also the other one, and
in fact they arc not incompatible, for even in the successive arts as
music, for full enjoyment, the synthesis of the succession should give,
unlock, the contemplative enjoyment of the unity of the whole. It is
however true that in the successive arts with their greater complexity
and length the whole’s unity retires, is less important, serves rather for
the framework of that of the parts.
The more intellectual, less physical, the spell of contemplation the
more complex must be the object, the more close and elaborate must
be the comparison the mind has to keep making between the whole
and the parts, the parts and the whole. For this reference or compari-
son is what the sense of unity means; mere sense that such a thing is
one and not two has no interest or value except accidentally.
Works of art of course like words utter the idea and in representing
real things convey the prepossession with more or less success.
The further in anything, as a work of art, the organisation is carried
out, the deeper the form penetrates, the prepossession flushes the
matter, the more effort will be required in apprehension, the more
power of comparison, the more capacity for receiving that synthesis of
(either successive or spatially distinct) impressions which gives us the
unity with the prepossession conveyed by it.
The saner moreover is the act of contemplation as contemplating
that which really is expressed in the object.
But some minds prefer that the prepossession they are to receive
should he conveyed by the least organic, expressive, by the most sug-
gestive, way. By this means the prepossession and the definition,
uttering, are distinguished and unwound, which is the less sane
attitude.
Along with this preference for the disengaged and unconditioned
prepossession in these minds is often found an intellectual attraction
for very sharp and pure dialectic or, in other matter, hard and telling
art-forms ; in fact we have in them the two axes on which rhetoric turns.
PARMENIDES'
[From same note-book as last.']
Parmenides — citizen and lawgiver of Elea, perhaps disciple of
Xenophanes, visited Athens according to Plato when Socrates was a
very young man (he was born in 468) in company with Zeno and was
then 65
His great text, which he repeats with religious conviction, is that
Being^ is and Not-being is not — ^which perhaps one can say, a little
over-defining his meaning, means that all things are upheld by instress
and are meaningless without it. An undetermined Pantheist idealism
runs through the fragments which makes it hard to translate them
satisfactorily in a subjective or in a wholly outward sense. His feeling
for instress, for the flush and foredrawn, and for inscape / is most
striking and from this one can understand Plato’s reverence for him
as the great father of Realism
'jt€l6ovs icrrl KeXevdo^, aKr^deliTj yap oTrrjBet
(it is therefore in part a matter of dialectic)
Tj S’, (l)s ovK cart re /cat cij p^peeSv e’errt piTj etvat,
rrjv 8?} rot TravaTreifle'a e/xpev drapTrov
ovT€ yap av yvolrjs ro ye pbrj edr, ov yap e^t/erdv,
ovre (f>pd(TaLS*
€GTL may roughly be expressed by things are or there is truth. Gram-
matically it = it is or there is. But indeed 1 have often felt when I have
been in this mood and felt the depth of an instress or how fast the
inscape holds a thing that nothing is so pregnant and straightforward
to the truth as simple and is, ‘Thou couldst never either know or
say/ what was not, there would be no coming at it.’ There would be no
bridge, no stem of stress between us and things to bear us out and
carry the mind over : without stress we might not and could not say/
Blood is red/ but only/ This blood is red/ or/ The last blood I saw was
red/ nor even that, for in later language not only universals would not
be true but the copula would break down even in particular judgments.
He goes on —
)(pi^ ae XeyeLV re loetv t* eop efifieuar ecrri yap eivai
lJLrj8€V 8* OVK etvai' rd a’ eyw (ftpal^ecrdat, avwya.
128
EARLY NOTE-BOOKS
Of being he says
dy€V 7 jT 0 V iov Kal dvwiXtBpov €Otlv
oiXov fiovvoy€V€s re Kal dTp€fi€s arakavrov
(a conjecture — dreXecTToy, arcAcvroj', dydvrjTov in the MSS)
ovSd TTOT '^v ouS’ ecrrat, cVet vvv eoriv ofiov rrdv^
€V (JVV€X€£.
It could not come from not-being nor can being come from being.
OvSe TTOT^ €K TOV COVTO^ i(j>7jG€L TtIuTLOS
ylveadal rt Trap* avro
‘Nor yet is there any force of faith will grant that from Being can ever
come anything side by side with it.’
It is the unextended, foredrawn — ‘Look* at it, though fabsent, yet
to the mind’s eye as fast jpresent here; for absence cannot break off
Being from its hold on Being : it is not a thing to scatter here, there,
and everywhere through all the world nor to come together from here
and there and everywhere’ . . .
ovSe Sialperov ioTiv, inel ndv icmv ofioiovy
ovS4^ ri TTf} jidXXov, to K€V upyoi pLiv avvex^adai
(ff. = ‘from foredrawing’)
0*586 TL x^f'POTcpoVf Trdv yap ttX^ov early eoyrog,
Tw Gvyex^s Trdy cWiV, e’ov yap eovri weXa^ei,
{. . . ‘for Being draws-home to Being’)
It is
dyapxoy, aTravaroy, eirel yeyeais Kal 6Xe9po$
rfjXe pdX* eTTXdyxBrjaayy aTrwae Se Tr/ort? diXrjdrjs —
which almost = . are beside the question : unerring faith puts such
things by’ — shewing the mixture of real with logical in the thought —
‘and it lies by itself the selfsame thing abiding in the selfsame place :
so it abides, steadfast there ; for strong Necessity has it in the bonds of
that bound that guards it all about. And this is why it is not lawful to
call Being without end (dreXevrrfToy) ; for Being needs nothing and if
it were so it would need all’ (the reading however is here corrupt).^
He compares it like Xenophanes to a ball rounded true and may
very well mean this as an analogy merely, especially as the comparison
is to the outline and surface rather than to the inner flushness, the
* * €K TOV ’ is Karstcn’s conj, Simplicius quotations give ‘ ye pij * and ‘ e*K juij *.
t arreovra, napeovra — I suppose the acc. sing, masculine to make it personal.
PARMENIDES
129
temper and equality of weight. It cannot be greater or less in one
place than in another, he says,
ovr€ yap ovk iov eort, to K€V Travoi pnv iKcadai*
€1? OpLOV^
(Not-being is here seen as want of oneness, all that is unforedrawn,
waste space which offers either nothing to the eye to foredraw or many
things foredrawing away from one another)
OUT* iov icrnv ottcjs eir) K€V covto?*!’
rfj /xoAAou rfj S’ '^aaov, iiTei irav iariv aavXov,
To be and to know or Being and thought are the same. The truth
in thought is Being, stress, and each word is one way of acknowledging
Being and each sentence by its copula is (or its equivalent) the utter-
ance and assertion of it.
TOJVTov S* iarl voetv re Kal ovvcKev cVti vorjpa
ov yap av€v rov iovrog iv <L 7r€<^aTia/ieVoi/ ioTLV
€Vp'qG€l9 TO voctv,
iv (p TT. i ’ Ritter and Preller translate ‘in quo enuntiatum est sive a
quo quid cogitatur*, referring it to the subject. Perhaps it would be
better referred to the object and Parmenides will say that the mind’s
grasp — voetv, the foredrawing act — that this is blood or that blood is
red is to be looked for in Being, the foredrawn, alone, not in the thing
we named blood or the blood we worded as being red. ^ari^eoBai is to
‘give it a name’, to come out with something, to word or put a
thought or thing.) Everything else is but a name (‘tw iravr' ovop
ioTLv ’) or disguise for it — coming to be or perishing, Yes and No
€Lval T€ Kal ovKL ’), change of place, change of colour.
The way men judge in particular is determined for each by his own
inscape, which depends on the mingling of the two elements, those in
which the heat-principle predominates having the finer wits, ‘ ov p-qv
oAAa Kal ravT-qv [Siavotav] SeiarBai rivos crvppcTplas ’ Theophrastus says
{de sens, 3) and then he quotes
tuff* yap €/caoToy Kpdmv peXiojv TToXvKapTrrojv [or
‘ iKdcrrqj . . . Kpaais ’]
Tojs* voos dvOpwTTOtCi TTapicrTqKev' to yap auTcJJ
ioTLv oTrep ff>pov€€L peXiojv <l>vaLS dvOpwiroiaiv
Kal irdaiv Kal iravrl' to yap nXiov iarl voqpa
* The MSS read ‘ Travjj * and ‘ iKvtlaBai *. The latter word need not be dis-
placed.
t MSS ‘ K€VOV COl'TOf *.
X auTo ioTiv 1 have written for auro erctM, for which there seems no reason.
B 60^8
K
EARLY NOTE-BOOKS
130
(‘According to the matching of his members / with the thousand turns
they take / so for each man is the thought the man will think, for the
sense that lives in this frame man wears is only the seeing of one self-
same thing— one thing for all men and for every man : [there are ten
thousand men to think and ten thousand things for them to think of
but they are but names given and taken, eye and lip service to the truth,
husks and scapes of it : the truth itself, the burl,] the fulness is the
thought’). For the phenomenal world (and the distinction between
men or subjects and the things without them is unimportant in Par-
menides : the contrast is between the one and the many) is the brink,
limbus, lapping, run-and-mingle / of two principles which meet in the
scape of everything — probably Being, under its modification or siding '
of particular oneness or Being, and Not-being, under its siding of the
Many. The two may be called two degrees of siding in the scale of
Being. Foreshortening and equivalency will explain all possible dif-
ference. The inscape will be the proportion of the mixture.
Materially the two principles are fire and earth or, as he puts it,
‘ethery flame of fire, comforting the heart [he is thinking of it perhaps
as a vital principle], marvellously subtle, throughout one with itself,
not one with the other’ and ‘unmeaning (aSarj) night, thick and wedgM
body’ — which makes Aristotle say that he ‘ Svo ra? alriag Kal Svo rag
dp\a$ rlBrjaiy Oepfiov Kal ifjvxpdv, otov nvp Kal yrjv XeycDV tovtojv Si to
piiv Kara p,iv to to OepjJLOV tottci, Odrepov Si Kara to p.rj ov.* It is
remarkable that he himself speaks of these as conventional, men’s
names for things, and one of them, body, as wrongly given. Aristotle
says ‘ TO €v piiv KaTa tov Adyov, nXeiw Si KaTO, Trjv aiaOTjaiv iTroXapL^dveuv
€tVai Svo tcls ’ etc as above, but he assumes Parmenides’ One to be a
oneness of inlaw^ only. Melissus ‘ eV tols npog aX'^Oeiav €v elvai Xeyojv
TO 6v €V Tots TTpOS So^aV SvO if}7j(7lv €LVaL xd? dpxds Tdjv OVTWVy TTVp Kal
vStvp,^
His cosmology was a system of concentric (?) orc^amt, spheres or
cylinders, ranging between fire and night, governed by a spirit (Sai-
fiwv) in the midst, also called Justice or Necessity. This spirit was the
cause of the gods, creating Love first — by which he clearly allegorises.
The beginning of Empedocles’ clashing of like and unlike may be seen
in this spirit’s mixing of male with female to make the world and of
his theory of sensation by like and like in Parmenides’ saying that the
corpse which can no longer feel heat, because thd'fire has left it, feels
cold, silence etc. ‘ Kal oXws Si ttov to ov ixetp rivd ypwcLP ’ (Theo-
phrastus)
Men, he thought, had sprung from slime
JOURNAL
Journal, notes, etc.
May 2, 1866. We came into these lodgings, Addis and I, at beginning
of this term — 18, New Inn Hall Street.*
Weather cold and raw, chestnut leaves touched with frost and limp.
Sun today. Swallows playing over Ch. Ch. meadows with a wavy and
hanging flight and shewing their white bellies. Snakes’-heads. Yellow
wagtails. Almost think you can hear the lisp of the swallow’s wings.
Coaching with W. H. Pater this term. Walked with him on Mon-
day evening last, April 30. Fine evening bitterly cold. ‘Bleak-faced
Neology in cap and gown’ no cap and gown but very bleak. Same
evening Hexameron met here: Addis read on the Franciscans:
laughter. Thought all the next day of the terrible history of Fra
Dolcino.^ Same day, I believe, Case^ at one of the cricket grounds saw
three Ch. Ch. men laughing loudly at a rat with back broken, a most
ghastly sight, flying at the dog.^ He kicked away the dog, put his heel
on the rat’s head and killed it, and drove away the crowd of cads.^
Wonder what would be the just statement of the effects of cruelty to
animals, cruel sports, etc.
Little girls singing about May Day under the windows yesterday.
Never heard this before the other day —
Violante
In the pantry^
Gnawing at a mutton bone.
How she gnawed it.
How she clawed it.
When she felt herself alone.
Reading Maurice de Guerin’s Remains,® enjoying but without
sufficient knowledge of French.
This day week brought forward motion in defence of the Fenians
at the Balliol Debating Society.’ Wandered about S, Hinksey that day
with most sad distracting scruple, as bad as any single one almost
ever was.
May 3. Cold. Morning raw and wet, afternoon fine. Walked then
with Addk, crossing Bablock Hythe, round by Skinner’s Weir through
many fields into the Witney road. Sky sleepy blue without liquidity.
From Cumnor Hill saw St. Philip’s*’ and the other spires through blue
haze rising pale in a pink light. On further side of the Witney road
hills, just fleeced with grain or other green growth, by their dips and
waves foreshortened here and there and so differenced in brightness
and opacity the green on them, with delicate effect. On left, brow of
the near hill glistening with very bright newly turned sods and a scarf
,34 JOURNAL (l866)
of vivid green slanting away beyond the skyline, against which the
clouds shewed the slightest tinge of rose or purple. Copses in grey-
red or grey-yellow — the tinges immediately forerunning the opening
of full leaf. Meadows skirting Seven-bridge road voluptuous green.
Some oaks are out in small leaf Ashes not out, only tufted with
their fringy blooms. Hedges springing richly. Elms in small leaf, with
more or less opacity. White poplars most beautiful in small grey
crisp spray-like leaf Cowslips capriciously colouring meadows in
creamy drifts. Bluebells, purple orchis. Over the green water of the
river passing the slums of the town and under its bridges swallows
shooting, blue and purple above and shewing their amber-tinged
breasts reflected in the water, their flight unsteady with wagging
wings and leaning first to one side then the other. Peewits flying.
Towards sunset the sky partly swept, as often, with moist white cloud,
tailing off across which are morsels of grey-black woolly clouds. Sun
seemed to make a bright liquid hole in this, its texture had an upward
northerly sweep or drift from the W, marked softly in grey. Dog violets.
Eastward after sunset range of clouds rising in bulky heads moulded
softly in tufts or bunches of snow — ^so it looks — and membered some-
what elaborately, rose-coloured. Notice often imperfect fairy rings.
Apple and other fruit trees blossomed beautifully. A. talking about
the whole story of the home affairs. His idea was (when he went down
three years ago and was all the Long preparing for confession) that
7 years was a moderate time during which to fast within the boundaries
of life and abstain from communicating. Being not allowed to read he
took long walks, and it must have been on one of these that he fainted
as he once told me.
Yellow and green in the fields charming. Ferryman said T can’t
justly tell you’, and they call weir as if wire,
I think that thread in smooth rivers is made by water being drawn
or retained at right angles to the current.
May 4. Fine. Alone in Powder Hill wood. Elms far off have that
flaky look now but nearer the web of springing green with long curls
moulds off the skeleton of the branches. Fields pinned with daisies.
Buds of apple blossoms look like nails of blood. Some ashes are out. I
reckon the spring is at least a fortnight later than last year for on
Shakspere’s birthday, April 21, it being the tercentenary,* Ilbert*
crowned a bust of Shakspere with bluebells and put it in his window,
and they are not plentiful yet. Beauty of hills in blue shadow seen
through lacy leaf of willows.
At Skinner’s Weir yesterday they were peeling osiers which gave
out a sweet smell.
Valuation of my old rooms is 3(^44. 3s. deducting 13s. for valuer.^
May 5. Fine. Walk with Urquhart to Wood Eaton. Saw a gull
JOURNAL (1866) 135
flying. Fumitory graceful plant. Vetch growing richly. Some beeches
fully out in pale silky leaf with silver fur when held against the light
on the edge. Noble elms at the Manor House or other great house
there.
A. has given himself a month’s fast which will end on Friday next,
that is of course Saturday, and is ill. That laughter on the and was
hysterical, as Urquhart says.
May 6. Grey. A little time ago on much such another day noticed
Trinity gardens. Much distinctness, charm, and suggestiveness about
the match of white grey sky, solid smooth lawn, firs and yews, dark
trees, below, and chestnuts and other brighter-hued trees above, the
young green having a fresh moist opaque look and there being in
the whole picture an absence of projection, and apprehension of colour.
On such a day also last Friday week boated with H. Dugmore to God-
stow, but the warm greyness of the day, the river, the spring green,
and the cuckoo wanted a canon by which to harmonise and round
them in — e.g. one of feeling.
Liddon’s 6th Hampton lecture.^ Walk with Addis: blue distance
shading into nothing : boys idyllically playing cricket. Oxenham and
F. Lockhart^ are up. A. and I dined with Wood. +*
Last Friday fortnight we were out above the Hinkseysf on a charm-
ing day, sky pied with clouds, near the earth-line egg-blue, the longest
graceful waved ribbons, also two columns of detached stacked clouds
filing far away.
May 7. Rogation day. Fine and warm. Walk with Addis by Godstow
and Whiteham.^
May 8. Rogation day. Fine morning, grey afternoon. Walk with
Geldart and Nash.^ Curious notions of those sort of people about
conceit.
May 9. Fair with clouds. Walking down towards Sandford with
Coventry Patmore^ in hand. Blue and white delightfully overlacing
each other in water. — Rogation day.
May 10. Ascension Day. Fair, with more clouds than sun. Walked
alone to Fyfield or rather to a step beyond the great elm* (perhaps the
greatest I have ever seen) and made a sketch at the turning point.
The road went under elms their light green darker printed by shadows,
chestnut, sweet-smelling firs etc. Rooks cawing. Beddingfield^ church
with good and curious E. and W. windows, but sadly neglected. Fine
elms there with ground-running boughs. In timbered pasture etc
beside road bluebells thick, and tufts of primrose, and campion, the
two latter or two former matching gracefully but not so well the three.
One effect of sky was a straight line as by a ruler parting white and
* Thus in MS, See also pp, 136-7, 139^40^ ^ 47 ! Preface, p, xxv,
t Hinkeys.
136 JOURNAL (1866)
soft blue, and rolling reefs shaded with pearl grey hanging from this to
the earthline. +
Children with white rods beating bounds of St. Michael’s parish.*
May 1 1 . Heavy showers in night and morning. Afternoon fine and
clear. Failure of Overend, Gurney, and Co in the panic.^
May 12. Showers, and dull and cold. The Eights going on: Balliol
often bumped now taken* ofF.^
May 13. Fair and cold. 7th Bampton, in which the most beautiful
sentence I ever remember hearing of Liddon’s.*
May 14. As yesterday. It is a most cold May. Papa writes ‘The Agra
and Mastermans Bank^ was in danger, and was at times reported to
have shut up. This is your Grandpapa’s^ bank. In the midst of the
panic, he, in a fit of generous impulse, went to them, and instead of
withdrawing any of his money paid them in an additional ^{^2500, to
shew his confidence, and as a mark of friendship: they having been,
he says, very kind to him years ago. I trust that this bank is also safe.’
Waterhouse is to do the new buildings of the college.'^ Ernest
Geldart is up on the business.® Jowett had him and the other man in to
his rooms and held forth about proportion — after rejecting Butter-
field. Breakfast at Randolph with Mrs. and Miss Coles.® Dinner at
Clarendon with the Geldarts.
Chestnuts in bloom. The blooms are, as one feels, not straight but the
tips bent inwards : then being thrown in some cases forw'ards, a good
deal out of the upright, the curved type is easily seen in multiplicity
which in one might be unnoticed. A brown tulip is a noble flower, the
curves and close folding of the petals delightful. Anthers thick furry
black. Young copper beech leaves seen against the sky pale brown with
rosy blush along the ribs of each leaf. Solomon’s .seal.
May 15. Fair or fine and cold, evening remarkably so and very
clear. Walking in Magdalen walks. Green-white of lower leafage
especially in elms and beeches : of course in the beeches it is almost
the natural hue. Elm trunks are blue or purple rich moist black at this
time, as thrown out by the thick heaps and armfuls of the wet pellets
of young green of which their leafing now ‘stands’. To see the long
forward-creeping curls ofthe newly-leaved trees, in sweeps and rows all
lodged one with another down the meadow edge, beautiful, but dis-
traction and the want of the canon only makes these graceful shapes in
the keen unseasonable evening air to ‘carve out’ one’s thought with
painful definiteness. Hemlock in clouds of bloom. The shallow shelves
of beech branches hang with light and certain poise, dividing the air,
say just over one’s head, with level-grown pieces of pale window-like
green spotted with soft darks by the now and then overlapping of the
leaves. May in bloom. Irises blooming.
* MS reads takes.
*37
JOURNAL (1866)
May 16. Fair and cold. Called at night on HalF at Ch. Ch. —
Hawthorn especially when thrown up with may is very clearly type-
marked.
May 1 7. Fine and warm. Confession.
May 18. As yesterday. Charming to see in the Garden Quadrangle
the strong relief of the dark green and the balls of light in the close
grass and the mixture of sunlit leaf and dewy-looking shadow in the
chestnuts high up and moving in the wind. Squares of green out-of-
doors, as a window or garden-door, are delightful and the green then
suggests rose in an unusually recondite way, as if it were a translation
of rose or rose in another key. Plane in full leaf but not sycomore.
Mulberry budding. Lilac in full blow. — ^Things look sad and difficult.
May 19. Summer. Draughts of warm wind through doors or win-
dows are pleasanter than out of doors.
May 20, Whitsunday. As yesterday, hot yet fresh with wind. Dr.
Pusey preached.^ After Hall walk witli Nettleship* to Bablock Hythe,
round by an untried way into the Appleton road up to Cumnor, and
home by moonlight. Beautiful blackness and definition of elm tree
branches in evening light (from behind).** Cuckoos calling and answer-
ing to each other, and the calls being not equally timed they over-
lapped, making the triple cuckoo^ and crossed.
May 21. As yesterday unless the wind was E. With Addis in
meadows beyond Binsey. Stocks® and Hall dined with me. Meadows
yellow all over with buttercups. Strong dark shadows of trees through
grass and buttercup stems chequering the effect. Heard corncrake.
May 22. As yesterday, cold wind, -f . Whit Tuesday.
May 23. Fine. There has been much E. wind this May.
May 24. Grey in morning, then fine. Cold, with E. wind, skin
being parched and lips cut. Buttercups in Magdalen meadow put out
the green in their yellow and from their just visible distinction and
countlcssness throw the trees of the Walks ‘to finer distance*. Some of
the chestnuts have blooms touched with bright rose, not faint and at a
distance confused and put out by the yellow as in the common ones,
but shining with red and white purely and beautifully.
May 25. Fine, with E. wind. Agra Bank still in great danger, Cyril
says.
May 26. Mostly dull, chinky clouds, in afternoon curdled and
moulded. Towards evening the North much striped. Clouds of dust.
Matthew Arnold lectured on the Celtic element in English poetry.^
May 27. Trinity Sunday. 4-. — ^Warm, grey brightening to blue
sky, but a haze all day. — Walked with Urquhart to Cuddesdon’ by
Shotover. Charming view of Horsepath in hazy light with upright
growth of elms, boughs parting regularly and unweathered. There was
an ordination, at which Awdry® was ordained deacon. Wood joined
,38 JOURNAL (1866)
US and we went home by Garsington, a very pretty way, and saw the
church.
May 28. Fine.— Last night the St. Giles’ gate of the college was
forced open from within, the locks being carried away. £50 reward
is offered for the doers of this.’
May 29. Fine and warm. Evening colder, with high lawn valences
of clouds gracefully twirled at the ends, as usual. Addis, M’Farlane,^
Garrett^ Case, and Fletcher^ at breakfast.
May 30. Mostly fine. Some more of those streamer clouds in the
morning. Breakfasted with Bickersteth.^ Philip Simeon^ dined with me.
May 31. Grey, the clouds interesting to some degree, especially a
range, say in the N.W., ropy, the coiled folds being taken back across
it from bottom to top westwards. A little rain and at evening and night \
hard rain. — Pater talking two hours against Xtianity.*^ — ^Breakfasted
with Russell® of Wadham, dined with Bond.
June I. — Cloudy, with thundershowers in which Eaglesim’ and I
were caught on Port Meadow. — I read today the journal I kept in
1862, burning parts. — Cyril came up.
June 2. — ^Bright and hot, strong blue with bright changing clouds,
besides the high thin grassy tails. — ^Yesterday, I think, for instance
rain clouds were broken into mackerel at sunset (which then were an
illuminated dun-colour parted by pale blue) and near midnight had
become smaller fleecy spots which in the moonlight silvered the sky. —
Karslake spent the day here. Aunt Kate also came up and I forgot
to meet her.
June 3. Showers, but mostly bright and hot. Clouds growing in
beauty at end of the day. In the afternoon a white rack of two parallel
spines, vertebrated as so often. At sunset, when the sky had charm and
beauty, very level clouds, long pelletted sticks of shade-softened grey
in the West, with gold-colour splashed sunset-spot, then more to the
S. grey rows rather thicker and their oblique flake or thread better
marked, above them on a ground of indistincter grey a drift of spotty
tufts or drops, a ‘dirty’ looking kind of clouds, scud-like, rising. With
Garrett in Binsey Lane. The green was softening with grey. The
meadows yellow with buttercups and under-reddened with sorrel and
containing white of oxeyes and puff-balls. The cuckoo singing one side,
on the other from the ground and unseen the wood-lark, as I suppose,
most sweetiy with a song of which the structure is more definite than
the skylark’s and gives the link with that of the rest of birds.’® — ^Yellow
meadows shining through the willow-rods pretty. — The last Bampton, * ’
The Bp. of Brechin’^ preached at St Thomas’ in the evening. — At
sunset too there was much of that delicate lock-of-hair horizontal
streaking. The map of the sky was a rhomboid of grey round-moulded
cloud in one great cloth stretching over the sky with one part resting
JOURNAL (1866) 139
somewhere on the skyline in the S. or S.W., and the other rows were
meteorologically parallel but perspectively converging and diverging
with respect to this, clear sky being between. Wafts of very warm
wind came now and then all day.
June 4. Rain the night before. Grey with some rain. — Miss Lloyd*
and Aunt Kate came to dinner. Aunt Kate and Cyril went down
together. — wind. Much rain at night. The sky oyster-shell during
the day.
June 5. Grey and chilly, with rain. — Puller^ and young Wharton
dined with me.
June 6. Grey, with some rain. Evening fine. Aspens thick in leaf
but not so the sycamores even yet, or possibly they are this summer or
at this time of the summer very thin. A mass of buttercup floating
down under one of the Godstow bridges. A barge, I find, not only
wrinkles smooth water by a wedge outlined in parallel straight lap-
waves but also, before and without these, shallower ones running,
say midway, between those of the wedge and a perpendicular to the
current.
June 7. Grey, I believe, brightening in the evening.
June 8. Saw sunrise from about half past three. It had great charm.
Described in sketches for Pilkie and Mostly bright with wisps
and washes. Hot.
June 9. Bright. There was one long sweeping waving spine very
dimly vertebrated and with gauzes flying from it. The sky is now (nine
o’clock, evening) sad grey with dirty darker patterning, scud spots
etc, and some very faintly made out mackerelling — ^Western openings
pale yellow. — On Friday or Saturday, I think, the Agra broke^
(June i3).s
June 10. Bright, with mackerelling now and then.
June II. St. Barnabas, -f, — ^Dull, if I remember, brightening.
June 12. Some rain, which made evening cold. — Dined with the
Bonds in J. Bond’s* rooms and met also Mr., Mrs., and Miss Sweet.
June 13. Commemoration,’ — Papa writes ‘Your Grandfather did
lose very heavily by the Agra, but never alludes to it, as the subject is
disagreeable, and it is to be hoped that part will be recovered.’
Grandmamma Smith® very ill. — Rain in morning and hard storms of
it in evening. — Grace of willow bushes with their sprays shooting over
and reversed in water. — Was happily able to see composition of the
crowd in the area of the theatre,’ all the heads looking one way
thrown up by their black coats relieved only by white shirt-fronts etc :
the short strokes of eyes, nose, mouth, repeated hundreds of times I
believe it is which gives the visible law : looked at in any one instance
it flies. I could find a sort of beauty in this, certainly character — but
in fact that is almost synonymous with finding order, anywhere. The
140 JOURNAL (1866)
short parallel strokes spoken of are like those something in effect on
the cusp-ends of six-foils in the iron tracery of the choir gates in our
chapel. — Miss Rossetti’s Prince's Progress^ out. — Confession.
June 14. Fair, with more or less mackerelling. Vines silver on walls.
Round leaves of lime relieved on darkness within. The irises in the
Botanical Gardens beginning to pass but the yellow and orange lilies
(most like amaryllises, but the name of the yellow sort was hemerocallis,
I believe) in chaplets and curled sometimes at the upper, sometimes
the lower, side, most beautiful. — Reading with delight Miss Thacke-
ray’s Cinderella.^ — ^Williams — George Arthur Williams^ — who lodges
opposite went down today and comes up but for a few days next term
before going down altogether. I found a painted crucifix in his bed-
room and Benson’s Manual of Intercessory Prayer,^ Bp. Wilson’s
Sacra Privata, and his book on the H.C.*
June 15. Grey, clouds coming down blue on the hills near Wells.
Some rain. — From Oxford to Glastonbury with Addis. After the Abbey
where the Norman work on the doorways^ is of much beauty, up the
Tor looking over the island of Avilion^ which is not without the sug-
gestiveness it ought to have. Then we walked to Wells.
June 16. Fair, with a cold wind. It was like a March day. — Wells
Cathedral with great pleasure in morning. Afternoon over the hills
to Bristol. Rain in evening when we were reconnoitreing Urquhart’s
Velindra.»
June 1 7. Coldest summer day I ever remember, wind and rain. —
+ . Saw St. Raphael’s,^ where the rector of St. Ethelburga’s, Bishops-
gate*®, preached twice, and heard a delightful Gregorian” there.
June 18. Small rain and showers all day. — By boat to Chepstow,
then walked to Tintern where the rain stopped us. We missed the
Wyndcliff. The Abbey is, one thinks, the typical English work and
reminding one, as Street led one to expect, of Butterfield.”
June 19. Smart showers in morning with bright between; this
cleared till it was very fine, with flying clouds casting shadows on the
Wye hills. Fine sunset. — ^Tintern to Ross by Monmouth — ^The after-
noon way we much enjoyed, in especial we turned down a grass lane
to reach the river at the ferry. It W2is steep down at first and I remem-
ber blue sprays of wych-elm or hazel against the sunlight green further
on. Then the fields rose high on each side, one crowned with beautiful
trees (there was particularly an ash with you could not tell how many
contradictory supple curvings in the boughs), and then orchards, of
which this country is full ; on the other, with a narrow plot of orchard
in which sheep grazed between the rise and the lane, was Goderich
castle of red sandstone on the height. Close by the river was a fine
oak with long lunging boughs. The country is full of fine trees, espe-
cially oaks, and is, like Devonshire, on red soil. We crossed the river
JOURNAL (1866) 141
whirling down with a swollen stream, and then by lanes to Ross.
From the hotel there you see the river enclosing the Oak Meadow and
others in its bends. We walked by twilight and moonlight up it, flush,
swift, and oily, the moon streaking it with hairs, Addis said, of light.
Aspens blackened against the last light seem to throw their scarcer
leaves into barbs or arrowheads of mackerel patterns. — ^Addis’ idea
of fondness or friendship he says is of feeling and not of acts of kind-
ness. — He thinks passing through a country associated with someone
who has been before you, as Herefordshire partly with Prichard,* is
deeply sad, but it is not with associations of the dead.
They are not dead who die, they are but lost who live.
June 20. Addis walked to Hereford, I went by train, passing and
repassing the river. Both went back by train. We reached the Close at
the same moment. We saw the cathedral and went to the R.C.
Benedictine Monastery at Belmont^ two miles up the river, first he,
then by his direction I, partly along the river, partly inland amidst
oaks, which grow richly here.^ The sky at that time was grey and
moulded in long flu tings. One of the Fathers, a Frenchman,^ was very
kind and showed me over everything. From Ross Addis walked to
Gloucester; after strolling by the river there I went by train, being
now terribly footsore with Simm’s® kid boots. — Fair till evening, when
it rained.
June 21. Saw Gloucester cathedral, where everything is very sadly
dune.^ Addis was very melancholy. Home in storms of rain. — Morning
bright, then dull, with sky in long strips from which dirty scud clouds
were swept upwards like flying skirts. Saw Cumnor Hurst far off and
could partly feel Addis’ feeling. Sunset fine, soft round curdled clouds
bathed with fleshy rose-colour in wedges, for a dark spoke struck up
in the midst. Then thunder and lightning and then hard rain.
June 22. Fine. — Hampstead.
June 23. Fine.
June 24. Fine.
June 25. Fair. — ^Those peacock blue irises very little reflexed look
charming in cottage gardens.
June 26. Fine and hot. Haymaking mostly over.
June 27. Hot. Thunder and great hailstones. Then the sky became
much confiised with high clouds which do not move much.
June 28. Fine.
June 29. Bright. — It is the tufts of bloom on Spanish chestnuts
crowning the round tufts in which the leaves are thrown which make
those wavy concentric outlines this tree has at twilight.
June 30. Thunderstorms all day, great claps and lightning running
up and down. When it was bright betweentimes great towering clouds
behind which the sun put out his shaded horns very clearly and a
142 JOURNAL (1866)
longish way. Level curds and whey sky after sunset. — Graceful growth
of Etzkoltzias* or however those unhappy flowers are spelt. Yews and
evergreen trees now very thin and putting out their young pale shoots.
July I. Sharp showers, bright between. Late in the afternoon, the
light and shade being brilliant, snowy blocks of cloud were filing over
the sky, and under the sun hanging above and along the earth-line
were those multitudinous up-and-down crispy sparkling chains with
pearly shadows up to the edges. At sunset, which was in a grey bank
with moist gold dabs and racks, the whole round of skyline had level
clouds naturally lead-colour but the upper parts ruddled, some more,
some less, rosy. Spits or beams braided or built in with slanting pel-
let flakes made their way. Through such clouds anvil-shaped pink
ones and up-blown fleece-of-wool flat-topped dangerous-looking
pieces.
July 2. A few showers, fine between. Those tretted mossy clouds have
their law more in helices, wave-tongues, than in anything else and it is
pretty perceptible. Amber-rose and blue-green on the threads near the
sun. After six a very slim-textured and pale causeway of mare’s-tail
cloud running N.E. and S.W. with the set of the hair or threads at
right angles, and this was on looking closer seen to be in jointed sprigs.
Also in the morning pale transparent unpacking white-rose cloud
soaked in blue and soon vanishing. — Elms and oaks have now young
leaves, and so too the sycomores with the usual beauty it gives them. —
Was at the Water-colours.^ Burne Jones’^ Cupid conveying Psyche and
Le Chant d' Amour . — ‘Je sais un chant d’amour triste ou gai tour k tour*.
The best of Smallfield’s^ things was a girl with raspberries in a garden.
Burton had one study not very interesting. E. K. Johnson® a name I
did not know before had some genre pieces, chiefly with near landscape,
the best being called A study of Yew trees — an ceil de bceuf in a garden
formed by yews, a bed of irises chiefly in the midst with a [ ]*
tree, and a lady in a peach-coloured grey silk part lit part shadowed by
sunset light. At that particular pitch no further correctness could be
wished in the growth of the yews etc and the folds of the dress.
Boyce’s^ things as good as usual. Rosenberg's^ are good too : he had some
things from Goderich castle etc showing the green mossy mould which
covers some facets of the sandstone, but he has definitely given himself
to a mannered tree touch although the departure from simplicity is
slight. — ^Was at the Academy too lately. Prinsep® -shews breadth. He
had a portrait of Gordon in costume of mandarin of the yellow jacket
and ‘La Festa di Lido’ in the Venice public gardens in October.
A. Hughes^ illustrated ‘My heart is like a singing bird*. There was an
atmosphere study of midsummer midnight by a certain Raven**^
who might turn out something. Brett" had a landscape of Capri.
* Gap in MS,
JOURNAL (1866) 143
Leighton’s* Syracusan bride. The new realist school scarcely appears
at the Academy.
July 3. Some rain, much fast doud, sometimes edgeless soft meri-
dians, sometimes mottles, combs, sprays from spines, etc. Gold
wind. Saw some transparent almost straight gauze clouds flying,
but below the others, — ^This night and some nights ago Milicent^
was improvising on the piano with much promise, as it seemed
to me.
July 4. Dull, showery, and cold. — ^Dined at the Hollands’,^ meeting
Mr. Honeybun, Mr. Perry of Brighton, and the Streets.^ — St. John’s-
wort coming out on the bank. Tea-coloured shoots on the roses and
pink-purple shaded into green. Gliding and winding of white-poplar
sprays in the wind.
July 5. Changeable sky, showers, cold. At a quarter to four in the
afternoon in the N.E. an ellipsoid comet-cloud with horizontal (or
slightly sloping) hair-texture, not equable, but gathered somewhat
in three bands, namely the outline ribs and one in the midst but
irregularly so. At six lustrous or shaded steel-grey swept sky, grey
scud etc, sun in bright pool. — Down to Croydon.^ — ^Austria totally
defeated by Prussia cedes Venetia to France.
July 6. Hard thunder-showers, fine between, passing clouds. Sun
coming out after one of these showers in morning hotly made ground
smoke, gravel as well as lawn, some time. Lawn shews half-circle
curves of the scythe in parallel ranks. Beeches seen from behind the
house scatter their tops in charming tufted sheep-hooks drooping
towards each other and every way. Layers or shelves of the middle
cedar not level but in waved lips like silver plate. Soft vermilion leather
just-budded leaves on the purple beech, and the upper sprays ruddy in
the sunlight: whole effect rich, the leaves too being crisply pinched
like little fingered papers. Carnations if you look close have their
tongue-shaped petals powdered with spankled red glister, which no
doubt gives them their brilliancy : sharp chip shadows of one petal on
another : the notched edge curls up and so is darked, which gives them
graceful precision. Green windows of cabbages in sunshine. The roses :
their richness, variety, etc will no doubt always make them necessary
to the poets. Take colour; there are some pink-grey or lilac a little
way off upon their dead-green bushes, there arc the yellow ones with
packed pieces blushing yellower at the foot, the coupe d'Hebe pink
outside and dry bright-grained rose-pink where the leaves turn out,
etc. Then for shape, some flat and straggling have fissures twisting
inwards upon the centre, some are globed and with the inner petals
drawn geometrically across each other like laces of boddices at the
opera with chipped-back little tight rolls at the edge. — Grandmamma
looking thin but pretty, this bringing out the delicacy of her features.
144 JOURNAL (1866)
The thinness is right, because it marks the departure of the dropsical
symptoms. — ^Back to Hampstead.
July 7. Fine. — Passing cloud-shadows soaking the woods. Pleasant
precision of hay-cocks and swathes with shadow on one side. Bleached
look of uncut fields. Those ox-eye-like flowers' in grain fields smell
deliciously. Strange pretty scatter-droop of barley ears, their beards
part outside like the fine crispings of smooth running water on piers
etc. Holding one up to the sky so that the top hairs should be about
horizontal (the rest following their radiation down to the ear itself,
which would hang down) noticed the instant after removing it a tiny
needle-like sort of rain in the air at right angles of course to the line of
the spikes. Whiteness of the pine-buds. Lombardy poplars built high '
and with dice-like leaves. Soar of the poplar. Walked a new way at ^
Finchley and saw Mr. Bickersteth^ on bridge over the Brent. On a
windy day the leaves of trees, e.g. the plane, get and keep a certain
pose of turning up from the pitch of the wind. Gable-shaped droop of
firs, yews etc like that of an open hand from the wrist.
July 8. Dull, a little rain in morning, steel-grey at sunset, with
yellow lustre in the West, rain at night. h .
July 9. Fine. — At French and Belgian exhibition.^ Interesting to
remember Daubigny’s^ suggestive and sombre landscape (a view of
Villerville and a river-scene) not unlike Crome. Compare too Tissot’s
Spring^ (curiously like in motive) with Millais’,^ and Baron Leys* and
Lagye^ his pupil with our medievalists. All their colouring ‘sleepy’.
Afterwards at the Abbey.
July 10. Fine. Distances in shades of blue but quite without haze. So
too trees at some distance pale and almost colourless in the glare, yet dis-
tinct. The wheat-fields blue underneath but now warm green in the ear.
July 1 1 . Dull and shallow sunlight. Saw an olive-coloured snake on
hedge of Finchley wood and just before its slough in the road — or at all
events a slough. Oats : hoary blue-green sheaths and stalks, prettily
shadow-stroked spikes of pale green grain. Oaks the organisation of
this tree is difficult. Speaking generally no doubt the determining
planes are concentric, a system of brief contiguous and continuous
tangents, whereas those of the cedar would roughly be called hori-
zontals and those of the beech radiating but modified by droop and
by a screw-set towards jutting points. But beyond this since the normal
growth of the boughs is radiating and the leaves-grow some way in
there is of course a system of spoke-wise clubs of green — ^sleeve-pieces.
And since the end shoots curl and carry young and scanty leaf-stars
these clubs are tapered, and I have seen also the pieces in profile with
chiselled outlines, the blocks thus made detached and lessening to-
wards the end. However the star knot is the chief thing : it is whorled,
* MS reads Feys.
JOURNAL (1866) 145
worked round, a little and this is what keeps up the illusion of the tree :
the leaves are rounded inwards and figure out ball-knots. Oaks differ
much, and much turns on the broadness of the leaf, the narrower
giving the crisped and starry and Catherine-wheel forms, the broader
the flat-pieced mailed or shard-covered ones, in which it is possible to
see composition in dips etc on wider bases than the single knot or
cluster. But I shall study them further. See the 19th.
July 12. Fine and hot, somewhat muggy. — In the battle of Sadowa
fought on the 3rd. the Austrians, it is said, lost in killed, wounded,
missing, and prisoners 80,000 men.
July 13. Fine. All day faint long tails, getting thicker as the day
went on, and at one time there were some like long ringlets, namely
curls shaping out a hollow screw. Rows of cloud lay across sky at sun-
set, their lit parts yellow, below which was the curious opaque blue
one sometimes sees with that colour. — To Midhurst,* then walked to
West Lavington* and back, seeing the church, built 15 years ago. I
should like to see it again for it looked immature and strange. The
bowered lanes to Lavington skirting Cowdery* Park^ were charming
and the gloom in the thicket of the park, where yews shewed and
chestnut leaves — hoary opaque green. Walked again later towards the
downs, heard more woodlarks, and found a glowworm. Just beyond
the town (of Midhurst) runs the canal water looking like a river and
on the steeper-rising further side the park trees make a towering and
noble wall which runs along to the left and turns and embays a quarter
of a mile away, the whole having the blocky short cresting which
freely grown park trees show. There were oaks and other trees, one
beech I noticed especially scattering forwards from the press brown
point-sprays, but the great feature is the Spanish chestnuts, their round
knots tufted with white heaps of flour-and-honey blossom : this gives
splendour and difference to such a growth of trees. I know now too
what a tinkling brook is.
July 14. Sultry, pale sunlight, hazy distance. The sky was chiefly
overcast, at one time with tufted silver down clouds suffused with light
hurting one’s eyelids. — ^Walked through Lord Egramont’s* park^
passing the ruins of Cowdery caistle to Petworth, whence by train to
Horsham, where I met Garrett. Fine limes in the park thick with leaves
and richly and regularly hung blossoms sounding from top to bottom
with the fremitus of bees. There were also some big sycomores with the
light screen of leaf covering them, from a distance, with glistening
tangles. — Garrett and I got recommended to a Mr. Ing^ at Whiting’s
fann in the parishes of Horsham and Nuthurst, where we afterwards
went. We went to see the place and came back to the inn.
July 15. Bright, thunderstorm at evening. — In Denne Park,^ Mr.
♦ Thus in MS.
L
146 JOURNAL (1866)
Evcrsfield’s place, where inUr alia are several great ashes and beautiful.
There is also a long grove chiefly of elm and ash very tall on the brow
of the height over which the park stands ; a little further on the slope
is a plantation of short oaks making a deep shade : from the country
below this whole is well marked and the short tops and the straight
clefts between the trees give the character which park trees have : the
oak grove looks an outwork or fence to the higher trees. We walked
over to the farm, had tea with Miss Ings, and finally agreed to take
the place for a fortnight.
July 16. Bright, with wind. — ^Went to the farm. — One of the day’s
papers* quotes the Moniteur as saying ‘Several journals have given
accounts of pretended conversations of the Emperor with different
personages, and published analyses of confidential despatches from
the Minister of Foreign Affairs. Such proceedings cannot be tolerated ;
they have the grave inconveniences of failing in propriety, agitating
public opinion, and, above all, putting into circulation facts abso-
lutely devoid of foundation.’
July 17. Dull, curds-and-whey clouds faintly at times. — It was this
night I believe but possibly the next that I saw clearly the impossi-
bility of staying in the Church of England, but resolved to say nothing
to anyone till three months are over, that is the end of the Long, and
then of course to take no step till after my Degree.^
July 18. Bright. Sunset over oaks a dapple of rosy clouds blotted
with purple, sky round confused pale green and blue with faint horned
rays, crimson sparkles through the leaves below. Afterwards rich rose-
colour swelling and spanning an oak.
July 19. Fine, but the sunlight becoming faint. — Macfarlane
arrived. — ^Alone in the woods and in Mr. Nelthorpe’s park,^ whence
one gets such a beautiful view southwards over the county. I have now
found the law of the oak leaves. It is of platter-shaped stars altogether ;
the leaves lie close like pages, packed, and as if drawn tightly to. But
these old packs, which lie at the end of their twigs, throw out now long
shoots alternately and slimly leaved, looking like bright keys. All the
sprays but markedly these ones shape out and as it were embrace
greater circles and the dip and toss of these make the wider and less
organic articulations of the tree.
July 20. Fine. There is a delightful wood of tall oaks on the other
side of the wood in Mr. Nelthorpe’s park. The -boughs spare, just
roughed with lichen, and gracefully and muscularly waved, checking
each other as well as the whole grate of one tree those of its neighbours,
are jotted with light and shadow by the sunlight. Their screen of leaf
and all their growth is slight and charmingly charactered.
July 2 1 . Fine. The haymaking is over now but not long : see June
2b- — ^There is a large-leaved kind of ash^ which grows in tall close
JOURNAL (1866-7) 147
bushes : when the wind blows it the backs of the sprays, which are
silvery, look like combs of fish-bones, the leaves where they border
their rib-stem appearing, when in repetition all jointed on one rib, to
be angularly cut at the inner end. The two bindweeds are in blossom.
July 22. Bright, sky a beautiful blue.
July 23. The same, but blighty in morning.
July 24. Dull, sky breathing open in blue splits and a little sunlight. —
Spoke to Macfarlane, foolishly.* — ^The wild parsley (if it is that)
growing in clumps by the road side a beautiful sight, the leaf being
delicately cut like rue. There is a tree that has a leaf like traveller’s-
joy,^ curled, and with brick-like veinings. It has clusters of berries
which are flattened like some tight-mouthed jars, yellow when unripe,
then cherry-coloured, then quickly turning glossy black if gathered.
The traveller’s-joy winds over it and they then are hard to tell apart,
unless that it has rougher duller leaves. There was a graceful bit, a
stile, with this tree hanging over on the left side, hazel and large-
leaved ash on the right, and a spray of the ash stood forward like a
bright blind of leaves drawing and condensing the light. Under the
bushes on each side was suggestive woolly darkness (and giving on
one hand onto the dry stoned bed of a streamlet, where on looking
under one saw more light filtering in) and soft round-bladed tufts of
grass grew in half-darkness under the stone at the foot of the stile. —
No, the berries belong, I now remember, to a rough round-leaved tree
(the underside being white). Merely^ the white-beam, I believe.
This is written since the word rue on Aug. 6. — Noticed in a slightly
rising cornfield fenced with oaks the deep foursquare blocks of the
wheat, blunt-edged at the furrows and hedges. — Golden Drop one of
the best kinds of the red wheat.
[Aug. 31, 1867]^
July 10, 1867.^ Flames of mist rose from the French brooks and mea-
dows, and sheets of mist at a distance led me to think I saw the sea :
at sunrise it was fog. Morning star and peach-coloured dawn. The
scales of colour in the landscape were more appreciable before than
after sunrise : all was ‘frank’. The trees were irregular, scarcely ex-
pressing form, and the aspens blotty, with several concentric outlines,
and as in French pictures. In the facing sunlight there was very little
colour but bright grey shine and glister, with trees interposing in their
stems and leafage poles and strokes of bluish shadow. The day was
fine, everything bright : even the iron rings in the walls of the Seine
wharfs dropped long slant pointed shadows like birds do.
To Paris, to the Hotel de Saxe,^ Rue Jacob, Quartier Latin, In the
afternoon to the Exposition,’ and dinner at the Perigord.®
July II. Fine; in morning sky festooned with cobwebs; afterwards
brighter; silver bright fish-scale-bespattered sunset.
148 JOURNAL (1867)
To Notre Dame, St. Roch, and the Louvre.
July 12. Rain.
In afternoon to the Exposition, and dinner at the Russian restaurant^
where the waiters leaned over and talked confidentially to the
Admiral.”
July 13. Dull in morning, with some rain ; at evening clear.
At Exposition again.
July 14. Some showers in morning; afterwards fine.
To St. Eustache^ to High Mass, it being Sunday ; then through Bois
de Boulogne to St. Cloud, where we could not however see the palace
or park. — In B. de B. noticed the thinness of French foliage, weakness
of the general type of the tree, and naked shrub-like growth of the
oaks. At St. Cloud well-grown elms with smoky foliage and branches
shewing through. But there were lime-groves regularly planted and
dark and thick of which the sprays in the shadow were vivid juicy
green like paint or tinsel. — To Paris by the river; Nadar^ balloon
flying. At night to the Madeleine.
July 15. Showers, and some fine.
To the Exposition and especially the Belgian pictures. Their chief
names are Baron Leys,^ Florent Willems,^ and Alf. Stevens^ — it is
folly to say that, but those three exhibited most and most struck me.
July 16. Changeable ; some flying scarf-ends ; showers ; later graceful
oyster-shell mouldings.
To the Exposition early, for the last time ; amongst other things to
the Bavarian pictures."^
July 17. Sharp showers in morning; in afternoon fine, scarves of
cloud ; evening grey.
The Admiral went off early for St. Petersburg, then B. Poutiatine
for Bayeux to meet Baillie and Browne® and go on to Arromanches,
and I went home by Dieppe and Newhaven. Rough passage, great
waves. Got soaked with spray and cheeks frosted with brine, but
I saw the waves well. In the sunlight they were green-blue, flinty
sharp, and rucked in straight lines by the wind ; under their fore-
locks the most beautiful bottle-green beam, as bright as any gems ;
when the wave had passed this same part — ^upon the turned-over
plait of the crest — neighboured by and sometimes broken by foam,
looked like chrysoprase. — In the London train with a Norman house-
maid. _
July 18. Showers and fine; rainbow. — ^The reason Shaksperc calls
it ‘the blue bow’® — to put it down now precisely — ^is because the blue
band edged by and ending in violet, though not the broadest, is the
deepest expression of colour in the bow and so becomes the most
decisive and emphatic feature there. — ^At sunset the air rinsed after
the rain.
JOURNAL (1867) 149
I found a letter from Coles, which had been waiting since the day I
started for Paris, to tell me of Dolben’s death.’ See June 28.^
July 19. Dull and threatening; a little rain and sun.
July 20. Dull and threatening ; a little rain ; showers at night.
July 21. Fair, with moving clouds; at sunset fine changing clouds
with apple-green and rose tints.
July 22. Fine, with graceful clouds ; sky silver-blue ; clear distances ;
rain at night.
July 23. Rain in morning; fine in afternoon; bright sunset.
July 24. Fair.
July 25. Fair, but threatening in afternoon.
July 26. Rain.
Milicent has now got Schumann’s Slumber-song,
July 27. Dull chiefly.
Slept at Westbourne Villas and went with Aunt Kate to Foreign
Paintings.^ Alma-Tadema^ — ^Tibullus’ visit to Delia and Honeymoon
temp. Augustus ; Auguste Bonheur — forest scene ; Bonnat — St. Vincent
of Paul and the galley-slave ; Devriendt — Guillebert de Lannoy re-
counting his adventures at the Crusades to Isabella of Portugal — style
of Baron Leys ; by the latter the Proposal, a garden scene ; by his
pupil Lagye Faust and Marguerite ; good genre pictures by De Jonghc,*
Ruiperes, and especially Vibert, also by Escosura, Gripps, Hamman,
Stevens, Toulmouche, and a tiny thing, ‘the Smoker’, by Meissonier;
Vibert had also a pastoral, Chloe and Daphnis, he teaching her to
play the pan-pipes, the motive being exactly that of Leighton’s this-
year pastoral ; interesting landscape illustrating spray-growth of tree-
tops by Ludwig ; duplicate of Landelle’s Fellah woman ; landscapes
by Lambinet; Gerome — Gate of the Mosque El Assaneyn, Cairo,
where were exposed the heads of the Beys sacrificed by Salek-Kachef ;
Idyl (children at a basin of fountain-water) — Lt^vy ; and a country
lane, Avith a woman leading a cow, by Weber (Otto) which for several
reasons was very good, especially the way in which a tree a little way
off against the light has its boughs broken into antler-like sprays by the
globes of the sunbeams or daylight.
July 28 . 1 am three and twenty. — ^Bright extremely, though a shower
or more fell ; distances all fine blues ; the sky working blue-silver ; the
clouds, which far off were in chains, were there covered in a blue
light and shaded with blue shadow, and in the afternoon indeed
shewed silver lips only and then were indistinguishable from blue sky
below that ; sunset bright — an edge of gold shewing amidst wet sandy
gold ; afterwards glowing ranks. — ^Thc timbered side of Frognal —
Mr. Claypen’s that was. Oak Hill, etc — ^from the fields towards Mr.
Joseph Hoare’s looked finer tlian I had ever seen it before : the foliage
* MS reads Yonghc.
150 JOURNAL (1867)
was SO vivid with the breaks and the packing; the poplars there arc
there looked like velvet, shewing all dark except an edge of bright
sprays along the top.
July 29. Fine but hazy. — In Bishop’s wood^ aside from the path I saw
an oak with tossing sprays all round ; the leaves were smallish as suiting
the dressing and toss of the tree but from inside were rather insigni-
ficant. — Elms at end of twilight are very interesting, their delicacy is
so great : against the sky they make crisp scattered pinches of soot.
July 30. Fair, but sky not liquid.
To Harrow with Lionel, who tried for a vacancy but failed. From
the churchyard a beautiful view, the best country view most likely in
the county. I walked home by Kenton and Kingsbury. — Gap in the
little book.^
July 31. Gross and yellow haze, most likely of town smoke.
Aug. I. Dull.
Aug. 2. Dull and cold ; before sunset the west opened in yellow from
the earth-line upwards, with a sharp edge to the blanket of cloud ;
then bright sunlight scattered on the trees.
Aug. 3. Fair; soft haze.
Aug. 4. Hazy sunlight.
Aug. 5. Fine.
Aug. 6. Hard rain nearly all day ; a break in the afternoon.
Judgment pronounced against Mrs. Thwaites’ will.^
Aug. 7. Rain nearly all day.
Aug. 8. Rain in morning ; then bright, with changes of clouds.
At the Dugmores’. We went — Horace and I — into Wild Wood (as
it is called) at the foot of their field, where the oaks have more of both
grace and charm than in Bishop’s Wood. — Brambles make a sort of
mail and look very grey in the light they take. — H.D. shewed me his
brother’s hawks.
Aug. 9. Bright; bright sunset, chiefly from chalky gold feathers
square-blown at their ravelled ends. — ^Walked to the Palace at Mus-
well Hill.** — Odd white-gold look of short grass in tufts: noticed it
especially on the opposite bank of the G.N.R. at Muswell Hill : you
may call it white-green or green-white too.
Aug. 10. Bright.
Aug. II. Fine; rather hazy.
Aug. 12. Fine. -
Aug. 13. Fine; haze on distance. — ^Drooping cards which limes and,
le^s strikingly, other trees make against the light at a distance
Aug, 14. Hot; fine, with haze; at six in the evening a wonderful
rack of what I hear they call ‘flock-of-sheep’ clouds, a dapple of plump
rounds half parted, half branching from one another like madre-
pores^ : the edge was pulled straight, and where in the west the rack
JOURNAL (1867) 151
sunk to the earth they were somewhat bright and gaily waved in
diminishing pieces: as time went on through all the rack the parts
seemed to close up more and form yokes — ^whether this was really so
or only that the shadows, which continued to grow and run up, bound
them together in mackerelling to the eye : this sort of sky they say fore-
tells rain within 24 hours : post hoc certainly, for see next day.
Aug. 15. The Assumption. — In the dark of the morning a thunder-
storm lasting long, after which rain with little intermission for the rest
of the day.
Aug.* 16. Wet clearing; near sunset mesh of thready chalking,
Aug.* 1 7. West wind, which I heard someone describe as ‘lumpy and
rolling heavy’, with a little rain on it; otherwise fine; near sunset
drifts of small graceful white-rose and scaly clouds.
To the National Portrait Exhibition* and South Kensington
Museum : in the latter I was noticing the lutes and mandolines.*
Aug. 18. Fair.
Garrett came up to Hampstead.
Aug. 19. Fine, rather hazy but cloudless; at nine in the evening
thunderstorm with of lightning, and again from two in the
morning till dawn : it was a great storm.
To the Kensington Museum^ with Lionel, where I looked over some
portfolios — full of photographs of metal-work from some of the loan
exhibitions. — Names of medieval etc musical instruments. — Celadon
green.
Aug. 20. Bright and sweet; fresh wind; some stacks of cloud. — ^By
the river at Hendon, where I was noticing the green-silver of the grass
opposite and the green-white of the blading just before me lit by the
facing sun.
Grandpapa at Hampstead.
Aug. 21. Fair.
Aug. 22. Bright. — Walked to Finchley and turned down a lane to a
field where I sketched an appletree. Their sprays against the sky arc
gracefully curved and the leaves looping over edge them, as it looks,
with rows of scales. In something the same way I saw some tall young
slender wych-elms of thin growth the leaves of which enclosed the
light in successive eyebrows. From the spot where I sketched — under
an oak, beyond a brook, and reached by the above green lane between
a park-ground and a pretty field — there was a charming view, the
field, lying then on the right of the lane, being a close-shaven smoothly-
rounded shield of bright green ended near the high road by a row of
viol-headed or flask-shaped elms — not rounded merely but squared —
of much beauty — dense leafing, rich dark colour, ribs and spandrils
of timber garlanded with leaf between tree and tree. But what most
* MS reads July.
152 JOURNAL (1867)
Struck me was a pair of ashes in going up the lane again. The further
one was the finer — a globeish just-sided head with one launching-out
member on thf right; the nearer one was more naked and horny. By
t2iking a few steps one could pass the further behind the nearer or make
the stems close, either coincidingly, so far as disagreeing outlines will
coincide, or allowing a slit on either side, or again on either side
making a broader stem than either would make alone. It was this
which was so beautiful — making a noble shaft and base to the double
tree, which was crested by the horns of the nearer ash and shaped on
the right by the bosom of the hinder one with its springing bough. The
outline of the double stem was beautiful to whichever of the two sides
you slid the hinder tree — in one (not, I think, in both) shaft-like and
narrowing at the ground. Besides I saw how great the richness and
subtlety is of the curves in the clusters, both in the forward bow men-
tioned before and in some most graceful hangers on the other side : it
combines somewhat-slanted outward strokes with rounding, but I can-
not very well characterise it now. — Elm-leaves : — they shine much in
the sun — bright green when near from underneath but higher up they
look olive : their shapelessness in the flat is from their being made,
Slcl to to be dimpled and dog’s-eared : their leaf-growth is
in this point more rudimentary than that of oak, ash, beech, etc that
the leaves lie in long rows and do not subdivide or have central knots
but tooth or cog their woody twigs.
For July 6, 1866^ I have a note on elm-leaves, that they sit crisp,
dark, glossy, and saddle-shaped along their twigs, on which at that
time an inner frill of soft juicy young leaves had just been run ; they
chip the sky, and where their waved edge turns downwards they
gleam and blaze like an underlip sometimes will when seen against the
light.
Aug. 23. Fine and cloudless ; fiery sunset. — Some wych-elms seem
to have leaves smaller, others bigger, than the common elm: see
Sept. I.
Papa, Mamma, and Milicent went off to Brittany.^ I went down to
call on Mrs. Cunliffe, who was out, and walked a little in Hyde Park,
where I noticed a fine oblate chestnut-tree with noble long ramping
boughs more like an oak. Then to the chapel of the poor Clares,^
where I made my resolution^ ‘if it is better’, but now, Sept. 4, nothing
is decided. For the evening to Aunt Kate’s. Sec irifrehMa,y 2 and 1 1.
Aug. 24. Bright. — In the middle of, I think, this day Lionel had a
piece of sky-blue gauze for butterfly-nets lying on the grass in the
garden. It was a graceful mixture of square folds and winding tube-
folds. But the point was the colour as seen by sunlight in a transparent
material. The folds, which of course doubled the stuff, were on the
sun’s side bright light blue and on the other deep blue — not shadow--
JOURNAL (1867) 153
modified^ but real blue, as in tapestries and some paintings. Then the
shadowed sides had cobweb-streaks of paler colour across, and in
other parts became transparent and shewed the grass below, which
was lit by the sun through the gauze.
To Richmond and the river with Cyril. What I most noticed was
the great richness of the membering of the green in the elms, never
however to be expressed but by drawing after study. — The children
went off to Rothingdean.
Aug. 25. Fine; in evening stormy-looking mottlings, and striped
sunset.
Aug. 26. Grey morning; rain in middle of the day; afterwards
bright, with silver lights and cobweb and blown-flix feather clouds ;
then white sweep ; very level-ranked sunset. — To Urquhart’s at Bovey
Tracey.* — On the way I saw red cliffs and near them copses with slim
bare stems, sometimes leaning and falling apart ; elms too I saw with
more liquid in their growth than elsewhere, slimmer and falling
towards one another, as in Turner’s rows of trees.
Aug. 27. Fine — in the morning between showers. — Oaks as well as
elms grow straight here : it is a new mood in them to me : they are
tall and upright, sided well and ricked distinctly, the focus (?) of their
enclosing parabola being near the top instead of leaning over to the
N.E. ; trunks white and clean ; isles of leaf all ricked and beaked.
Up Shap Tor.
Aug. 28. Dull; rain spitting on the moor. — ^The hazels here are
remarkable from the sharpness of the type both in leaf and in spraying :
the latter spring boldly out, browing over above, looking up below ;
the former are broad paddles tightly necked and drawn up on to their
stem.
On the Black Moor and in Colhays woods, where we saw a squirrel
with a very long curling tail.
Aug. 29. Dull, fairing in afternoon; bright sunset. — On the way
to Bullaton Rocks in a farm-yard there was a wonderful elm, whether
wych-elm or not I cannot say, which turned out to have four — you
might say five — stems — but ^op<l>r] p,ia,^ It had a thick-leaved round
head, the masses well membered. The leaf was neater and the sprays
lighter and more wirily curled than in the common kind.
We met Miss Warren^ and her nephew^ at a tryst and went with
them to Bullaton Rocks. The sun came out in gleams over the tors
and vallies. We then went to tea with the Miss Warrens, who shewed
us some old water-colours by their father, once vicar of Edmonton.
Charles Lamb® came to live there in his time, and they said he was a
drunkard, going from one public to another. Home by starlight and
Jupiter, stumbling down steep dark lanes.
Miss Warren told me that she had heard the following vision of an
154 JOURNAL (1867)
old woman from Mr. Barmg-Gk)uld.* She saw, she said, white doves
flying about her room and drops of blood falling from their ‘nibs’ —
that is their beaks.
The story^ comes in Henderson’s book of Folklore.’ The woman was
a good old woman, Widow Freeman by name, of Horbury. The room
was full of bright light, the ‘nibs’ bathed in blood, and the drops fell
on her. Then the light became dazzling and painful, the doves were
gone, and our Lord appeared displaying His five wounds.
Aug. 30. Fair; in afternoon fine; the clouds had a good deal of
crisping and mottling. — round by Plumley. — Stands of ash in a
copse : they consisted of two or three rods most gracefully leaved, for
each wing or comb finally curled inwards, that is upwards. — Putting
my hand up against the sky whilst we lay on the grass I saw more
richness and beauty in the blue than I had known of before, not
brilliance but glow and colour. It was not transparent and sapphire-
like but turquoise-like, swarming and blushing round the edge of the
hand and in the pieces clipped in by the fingers, the flesh being some-
times sunlit, sometimes glassy with reflected light, sometimes lightly
shadowed in that violet one makes with cobalt and Indian red.
Aug. 31. Gloomy early; then bright, with mottlings; then high
grey moulded clouds and spitting rain ; later hard rain.
By the river, the West Teign, when Urquhart lost his ring. — Chat
with Mr. Cleave,^
Sept. I . Bright and beautiful ; great climbing white wool clouds, and
swathes of grass flying behind.
By Chudleigh to Ugbrooke’ to Mass. As I had come fasting some
kind people of Lord Clifford’s^ gave me breakfast after church. Then
over the park, where there is a Danish encampment.
In the park great elms, not of the straight growth noticed above :
one on a steep slope had the two parts — the skirt and a tall sector-
shaped head. There were planes and various kinds of oak and by the
stream a very tall poplar — not Lombardy : I cannot be sure of what
kind — ^with the stem a long way bare. There were wych-elms of which
some leaves were as long as my hand. Of the other forest trees I say
nothing. The chalky light was striking up, and in the strawberry-tree
the leaves were yellow-green below and in the sky-light above blue.
One tree — a beech, I think — I saw on which the ground cast up white
reflection like glass or water and so far as I could see this could only
come from the spots of sunlight amidst the shade.
Back to Benediction ; then to Bovey by Gappath^ (which they pro-
nounce Gappa).
When I got to the middle of the common they call Knighton Heath-
fields (for heaths they call heathfields here) I saw the wholeness of the
sky and the sun like its ace ; the colours of Dartmoor were pale but
JOURNAL (1867) 155
else the common was edged wth a frieze of trees of the brightest green
and crispest shadow.
Mr. Cleave says they call a wooden bridge over the river a clamp.
Sept. 2. Fair, sometimes sunny, sometimes grey with mouldings;
bright sand frettings at sunset.
Drive over the moor ; up Hay Tor.
The furze* on the moor is thick in bloom. The composition of the
bloom is this — the head of a spike has, let us say, eight flowers, the
nibs of which — I do not know the botanical name — point outwards,
arranged as below, thus suggesting a square by way of Union Jack;
the wings or crests rising behind make a little square with
four walls, as in the drawing, these crests being those of the
bigger flowers and those of the smaller, I fancy, being sup-
pressed ; these little walls are like the partitions in honeycombs ;
the nibs when looked down upon are as in the diagram,
something like a Jew’s-harp, enclosing a split tongue; the
whole makes a pretty diaper. Some again might have six
flowers, as in the third drawing. The regularity however of
the drawings is of course — though the flowers are regular —
that of the type.
We drove down a very steep hill to Widecombe. The church* has a
steeple, Urquhart says, of Somersetshire character : it is disproportion-
ately solid and high for the rest ; indeed it half blinds the west aisle-
windows : query its object. The church is in good early third Pointed
and now in the very worst condition — Moses and Aaron at the east
end, the cieling falling in, a piece of a handsome painted rood-screen
cut down and put in a pew etc. From Widecombe we drove on to
Manaton. — In the cultivated vale which runs up the moor and in
which Widecombe stands are many sycomores, now browning. —
Everywhere here hollies abound and flourish, growing into sided
rocky shapes. — At Manaton^ I saw through the church windows a
handsome rood-screen standing and in good repair, perhaps restored.
There I sketched a hanger of ash. On the way back we sketched Houn
Tor and saw Becky Falls.'*
Past two o’clock at night sheet lightning and thunder, both increas-
ing in vividness and going on till dawn; hard rain came too. The
lightning was coloured violet, but afterwards as I lay in bed it was
sometimes yellow, sometimes red and blue.
Sept. 3. Fog, and in afternoon rain.
To the flower-show and ‘Industrial Exhibition’^ — ^N.B. handsome
green earthenware Russian jug ; jug of, I suppose, 17th century — I do
not know the name of the ware — in dark blue and brown richly
patterned, with cover and purchase ; dish of Palissy ware with a pike ;
old tiles of 13th etc centuries, one having an architectural design,
156 JOURNAL (1867)
which is uncommon, another a handsome fleur-de-lys with a checker
border; etc.
Sept. 4. Fine in morning ; rain in afternoon ; wind at night.
To the Harrises* at Plumley and home by star-light under the isle-
branches of the oaks. At Plumley they told me that the people here
fully believe in Pixies ; they call fairy-rings pixy-rings, and a field near
Shap Tor where there are some is called Pixies’ Meadow, and there is
a cave called Pixies’ Parlour.^
Sept. 5. Showers of rain — in one of which we were caught in coming
back from Ingsdon.
In the morning to the old church,^ which has a damaged but rich
screen, painted with saints, but poorly : below the saints is a row, as
often, of qiiaterfoils centered with four-cornered bosses, and of these
bosses two were delicately worked in a way I have never seen before.
Also a rich and now restored carved pulpit. — In afternoon to call on
the Monros and Miss Bowies at Ingsdon/ They have there the biggest
figtree, Urquhart says, but? — in England. Also a fine ilex, now dust-
coloured green, blowing silver in the wind. In their porch a piece of
flamboyant work, very rich ; it seems to be the wood-work back to the
choir-seats on one side, and came from Ilsington church before, I
believe, Mr. Monro’s time. Also in the porch a chair, as fresh as new,
which, if the inscription be genuine, belonged to a Glastonbury monk.
[‘Fresh’ I fear merely a plausible ‘Glastonbury’ chair.]
As we walked back a rainbow came out which had one of its roots
in a steep field on our right.
Sept. 6. Hard showers, and fine between.
To see the buildings for the new House of Mercy by Woodyer.^
Then to call on the Miss Warrens: Miss Susannah shewed me the
miniature of the Revd. Jacob Duche^ whose story is told in Hender-
son’s Folklore, Then up Bottor Rocks.
Sept. 7. Fine ; at sunset blown-flix clouds and especially a tuft of the
most graceful curled and waved locks.
To Gurney’s at Torquay, where I met Bright® of University. Gurney
walked with me to Watcombe. — In Babbicombe bay the cliffs were
glowing with red, the beach ash-white, the sea in-shore chlore green
above these same white pebbles, the outer blue purpled by fringed
cat’spaws. — ^We went into Butterfield’s new church.^ — At Watcombe
were the Morrises, with whom we went to King’s Kerswell. — On the
way I saw from the road hollow coombs filled with upright dressed
elms giit sometimes with bright sprays of new leaves, a beautiful sight.
— From King’s Kerswell we walked to Newton, and back by train.
Sept. 8. Fine ; mist early ; about eight in the morning tretted moss
clouds ; towards evening dull.
Walked to Newton for Mass, for I missed the train. Mass was said
JOURNAL (1867) 157
by Mr. Kenelm Vaughan,* and I breakfasted afterwards with him,
Mr. Spenser^ having to go somewhere else. Mr. Vaughan then drove
me in a little mule-cart to the Augustinian convent of Perpetual
Adoration at Abbot’s Leigh.^ I had a good deal of talk there with
Canon Agar.'^ Mr. Vaughan told me some stories of the Italian poor.
One man, speaking, I think, of the conversion of England, told him
he must walk in the way of God, and, when he asked what he must do
while walking, said Speak of God and to God. A woman he asked to
pray for him once in church said Do not ask me to pray, a poor sinner
like me : see, there is a great fire on the altar and I am cold. Another
woman he saw who had been three days starving : he was going to give
her something but she said our Lord had spoken one little word to her
from the altar and it was enough ; she wanted nothing. But this he told
me about himself:^ — he was in consumption, dying : the sisters had a
novena for him and he was drinking water from St. Winifred’s well : one
Sunday he had crept down to say mass, when, there being no rain,
before the consecration a quantity of water fell on him and the altar
so that he sent to ask the Canon whether he should consecrate or not :
he was told to do so and Mass went on : after Mass he was perfectly
well. He had two enthusiasms — for the B. Sacrament and for the
bible. He has a silver lamp to burn before the bible in his room to
make reparation to God for the desecrated use that has been made of
it for these 300 years.
In walking back saw a Scotch fir with pale and very thin foliage all
except one tuft high up, which was as dark and thick as velvet and
freshly edged with bright green.
I think^ it was the same day I saw where rainwater had run through
one of the cuttings made to carry it off in the turf by the side of the road,
and the gully being sandy, it had carried the sand down into the road,
throwing it in clear expression into a branched root or, if you looked
at it from above downwards, a ‘treated’ tree head : it ended definitely,
in (roughly speaking) a horizontal, and each runnel was rounded at
the end. Cf, the bone-shaped water-runs on the sand at Shanklin.
Sept. 9. Raining ; bright break near sunset.
To the Potteries.^
Sept. 10. Fine, though a little rain fell; yellow streaming sunset,
rain, and rainbow ; feeling cold at night. — Rainbow on dark ground
of cloud crimson and green ; on light ground it is the dun red and blue.
Through the slowness of the Bovey clocks missed the train and had
to walk to Newton ; thence to the Oratory.
Sept. 1 1 . Dull ; a little rain.
Sept. 12. Fine.
Sept. 13. Fine. There was an eclipse at night of the moon, and some
of the Fathers told me that from the golder colour she had had at first
158 JOURNAL (1867)
she became, at the eclipse and while it was going on, intensely silver,
while the stars did not brighten but became yellowish green.
Sept. 14. Dull, with high wind and more or less rain ; hard rain at
night.
The Father came from Rednal.^
Sept. 15. Fair.
Sept. 16. Fine, with haze.
To Oxford to fetch my things and back again. Wharton enter-
tained me.
Sept. 17. Dull.
Sept. 18. Cold.
School began.
Sept. 19. Dull, I think.
Sept. 20. Dull.
Gap. The weather was never fine and became very cold. On the 14th,
I believe, of October it was warm again and has been since.
On Oct. I o, I believe, I had a letter from Wood^ shewing that all
was over. — On the 1 3th I was present at Mr. Brookes’^ reception.
Oct. 16. The first fine day.
Oswald Charlton was over from Bridgenorth. — A letter from Addis
tells me Russell of Wadham is dead.
Gap. But P have the following notes —
Oct. 17. Fine though changeable, but rain early prevented our
going to Rednal.
And again —
Oct. 23. Dull early, then fair with shifting clouds ; bright in after-
noon. — ^We went to Rednal.
Oct. 24. Dull, with a sharp shower.
Oct. 25. Dull.
Oct. 26. Fine.
Oct. 27. Stormy rain in morning, blowing in feathers from the
spouts ; in afternoon fine with ropes of cloud — and some wet, they say.
Oct. 28. Fine and cold.
Oct. 29. Wet and warm.
Oct, 30. Fine in morning, dull in afternoon, wet in evening.
Oct. 31. Grey, with strange changes in the clouds.
Nov. I. Wet and soft.
Nov. 2. Fine.
Nov. 3. Fair.
Nov. 4, Fresh and fair in morning, in afternoon wet.
I began* my school work^ with the fifth form and Sparrow^ and Bcl-
lasis.® Presently I gave them to Challis’ and had the fifth and fourth.
Occasionally, when Stokes*® was away, I had the second too. I did a
great deal of work, clinched with the exam, papers, and am much tired.
JOURNAL (1867-8) 159
At the beginning of December there was about a week of sharp
weather and the boys flooded the ball-court and slid and skated on it.
After that to the end of the year the winter was mild and wet.
Challis came in the middle of the term to the Oratory and was
established at once. He came on Nov. ii, I think.
On Dec. 15, while the examinations were going on, Poutiatine and
Redington^ came to see me and the former again next day. And the
day after that he sent me the class list he had a second and so had
Bridges,^ Banning of Trinity, Carlile, Greenhow, and the Marquis of
Lansdowne ; Baliol* had five Firsts— Case, Doyle, Fremantle, Fyffe,
and Wallace : Dear of St. Johns, Gent, Markheim, and Wharton also
had Firsts : Garrett had a third and Jacob and Stocks.
The other Oxford news has been O’Hanlon *s^ suicide and that Philli-
more got a History First — one of two : Jayne of Wadham had the
other — and an All Souls’ Fellowship, Fremantle a Ch. Ch. Student-
ship, and Wallace a Merton Fellowship.
At the Oratory we had two Expositions of the B. Sacrament,® one
extraordinary for the Pope, the other in our course for the Forty
Hours.
On the 19th we had speeches and prize-giving; next day the boys
went, and next day Challis and I and* fell in with Whitaker.
At home the ground was rotten with a fall of snow there was and
the weather raw.
On the 26th was the thickest fog I was ever out in.
On the 31st, which was fine, frost began.
Jan. I, 1868. Frost. — ^To an evening party at the Hollands’.
Jan, 2. Frost; snowfall. — Dined with the Bonds.
Jan. 3. Frost, with snow. — ^To Aunt Kate’s for a few days.
Jan. 4. Foggy, with sleet ; frost giving a little.
Jan. 5. Dark, with sleet and thaw.
Jan, 6. The same ; frost at night. — To the Monday Popular^ with
Aunt Kate and Mary Becchey.
Jan. 7. Fine and freezing ; snow at night.
Jan. 8. Dull, with slight thaw. — Home and then to Croydon.
Jan. 9, Dull and thick ; snow not melting.
Jan. 10. Dull. — ^To Crystal Palace’ with Uncle John;® bad skating
there, and the Beni-Zougzoug Arabs.
Jan. 1 1 . Raining and freezing, so that ice was everywhere. — Home
and then to dine with Uncle Edward’ at his club and then to Wigan’s
theatre to see Dearer than Life}^
Jan. 12. Foggy thaw. — ^This day, I suppose, Bridges and Muirhead
sailed:” Bridges came both to Hampstead and Westbourne Villas to
see me but in vain.
♦ Thus in MS.
l6o JOURNAL (1868)
Jan. 13. Mild and blowing, with some wet.
Jan. 14. The same but less fine.
Jan. 15. Fine. — To Edgmond to Aunt Laura’s.*
Jan. 16. Silver grey and blowing; evening very mild. — ^Wych-elms
commonest tree here and gracefully growing.
Jan. 1 7. Sunrise sky gracefully swept in fine hair flue ; mild, blowing,
and in afternoon raining.
On this day* (17th) at a little before 7 p.m. Susan saw two (or
perhaps three : I forget) fireballs go past the nursery window, horizon-
tally. What could they be?
Jan. 18. Wet and stormy morning, fine afternoon.
Nesh the Shropshire people for unwell, ailing.
Mildred^ speaks of herself wholly in 3rd person : Susan not coming
at her call she supposed, aloud, that Susan did not hear but finding
she had she said ‘Baby said to Baby, ’Pose Minnie not hear Baby
call.* — Mary (and all Maries) she calls Mungoach and Jane Munksh.
— Being mimicked by Mabel she cried ‘Sissie not mock Baby! Baby
good mind to cut Sissie.’ — Did be logo = was going to go — Baby^uts =
little scissors — Church-pockie — alms’-box.
Jan. 19. Showers and wind and light,
Jan. 20. Dull. — ^To Lilleshall Abbey^ (Arroasian Canons of St.
Austin).
Jan. 21. Fair,
To the Oratory. — Letter from Wood.
Jan. 22. Snow on ground ; then quick thaw and fair.
Jan. 23. Dull.
Jan. 24. Freezing in morning, evening stormy and wet.
Jan. 25. Gap. Weather mild.
Feb. I . Fine ; great gale.
Feb. 2. Fine ; then while sweep ; heavy rain at night.
Feb. 3. Fine and cold ; a little snow.
Feb. 4. Mild and cloudy.
Feb. 5. Windy and fine ; dull afternoon.
Feb. 6. Dull, I think ; white sweep and dirty wisps in afternoon and
rain in night after.
Feb. 7. Fine morning, cloudy afternoon; Prism, colours on
clouds at 9.30 — on the stationary slips : frets of fine net in motion,
expatiating etc, were passing quickly; some rain jn afternoon,
Feb. 8. Fine, with some sleet.
Feb. 9. Fair in morning, with some frost ; fine later.
Feb. 10. Dull, then fine.
Feb. II. Fine.
Feb. 12. Dull, with cold wind.
Feb. 13. Fair.
JOURNAL (l868) i6i
To an instrument concert.*
Feb. 14. Dull.
Valentines.
Feb. 15. Fine.
Feb. 16. Fine. — Green buds.
Feb. 17. Fine, then dull. On these three days delicate clouding,
especially grasses.
Feb. 18. Fine first, I think, then dull. — Catkins hanging; bluebell
leaves coming up.
Feb. 19. Dull, I believe.
Feb. 20. Dull, with some rain.
Feb. 21. Fine. — Never saw the crimson nut-buds on the hazel till
today, when F. John pointed them out, and then nothing else but
them. He says as boys they used to call the catkins lambs" tails.
Dr. Newman’s 67th birthday.
Feb. 22. Fine and windy, with a little rain or sleet or snow.
Feb. 23. Fine.
Feb. 24. Fine.
Feb. 25. Shrove Tuesday. Fine and very warm; at night the new
moon almost on her back and Venus, very bright,
a little to the left above — the old moon very
visible.
Feb. 26. This evening they were as opposite, both
very bright and the dark part of the moon remark-
ably clear and milky. — ^Fine and warm, with wind.
— Ash Wednesday.
Feb. 27. Grey but clear. — Leaves in hawthorn hedges I found out.
Feb. 28. Fine.
Feb. 29. Wind and rain.
March i . Fine and cold ; a little snow was lying in the morning.
Mar. 2. Dull and damp. At night sky swept with mare’s-tail clouds
in bold strange comit* shapes, stars scattered, Venus — now very
bright — with a watery nimbus and like a lamp, moon with a milky-
blue iris. NB. Both the edges of this blue are amber and sometimes
rosy; the floor between the iris and the moon’s disk passes (inwards
from the amber) from yellowish to bluish green.
F. Joseph left the Oratory.
Mar. 3. Dull. — ^A green daylight in the hedges. Lilac trees have big
green buds.
Mar. 4, Cold but sunny, I believe.
Mar. 5. Bright between showers.
Mar. 6. Fine, with a shower or two, and cold.
Mar. 7. Dull and then wet.
• Thus in MS,
B mA M
i 62
JOURNAL (1868)
Mar. 8. Fine, with some snow or sleet showers, and bitter strong
wind. — To see the convent of St. Paul at Selly Oak.^
Mar. 9. Fine; then sweep of cloud and so dull.
Mar. 10. Fine before day and at times during day; in afternoon
fine. — ^Venus is very bright ; it lightens the quarter of the sky with a
palpable nimbus — today at least, the sky being musky rather. — ^Took
home some frog-spawn.
Some evening^ before Mar. 10. Scum in standing milk.
Mar. 1 1 . Wet.
Mar. 1 2. Fine ; hail showers in morning.
Mar. 13. Mild and dull.
Mar. 14. Fine, with slight showers.
Mar. 15. Fine and summer-like. — With Stokes on the Quinton
Road. CherviP and wood-sorrel out. Hawthorn sprays papered with
young leaves. — ^Venus like an apple of light.
Mar. 16. Dull. Chestnuts coming out.
Mar. 1 7. Fine mostly, but with hail and rain showers.
Mar. 18. Dim sunlight.
Mar. 19. Morning wet; in afternoon sun ‘in bursts’, as Corry says.
Mar. 20. Cold, grey, and easterly ; rain in afternoon.
Mar. 21. I forget.
Mar. 22. Dull and mild ; hard rain at night.
Mar. 23. Cold, with snow, hail showers, and sun.
Mar. 24. Freezing all day ; dim sun.
Mar. 25. Freezing ; pale sky ; snow at night.
Mar. 26. Mild and dull. Chestnuts hanging out their leaves.
JOURNAL (1868)
163
Mar. 27. Fine.
Mar. 28. Ice on my tadpole basin formed as below. Fine, with, I
believe, hazy sunlight.
Mar. 29. Fine but thick, I believe, like the day before.
Mar. 30. Very dim sunlight.
Mar. 31. Dim sunlight. Elm leaves low down out.
Ap. I. Dim sunlight.
Ap. 2. Dull ; then fine but not bright.
Plummer came to see me and told me of Mr. Plow’s murder.*
Ap. 3. Bright and hot.
Ap. 4. Fine but rather dim.
School over.
Ap. 5. Palm Sunday. Bright.
The retreat^ under F. Coleridge^ began.
Ap. 6. Fine but sky overcast with transparent cloud, which was
sometimes zoned and blown in wild ‘locks’ — altogether a moody sky.
There were both solar and lunar halos, faint : it deserves notice. I do
not know how long the first was but the latter may have lasted hours. —
A budded lime against the field wall : turn, pose, and counterpoint in
the twigs and buds — the form speaking.
Ap. 7. Changeable, chiefly cloudy, and hard rain in evening.
Ap. 8. Dull, windy, and cold.
The word to concelebrate,
Ap. 9. Maundy Thursday. Retreat ended with High Mass.
i64 journal (1868)
Ice on the basin conformed, but more fragmentarily, as above.*
Cold ; some snow fell and the sun shone.
Ap. 10. Good Friday, Ice on basin again.
Ap. 1 1. Ice on basin again, I believe. Cold and fine.
Ap. 12. Easter. The Father preached.
Ice again. Fine, but, I thought, freezing all day.
Ap. 13. Ice. Fine, and cold air.
Addis came to see me.
Ap. 14. Dull.
Ap. 15. Fine but rather dim.
Left the Oratory. To Hampstead.
Ap. 16. Dull, and a very little rain fell.
To our conversazione.* Pied Piper by Pinwell;* Praeraph. pictures
by E. Dalziel.^
Ap. 17, 1868.'* Dull; rain at night.
Ap. 18. Dim sunlight, and colder.
Ap. 19. Dull, with rain and wind.
Ap. 20. Rain ; then fine — the gale strewing the young chestnut leaves.
Ap. 21. Fine and windy; in afternoon wind cold; some rain.
To see Aunt Kate.
Ap. 22. Wet morning, dull afternoon.
Ap. 23. Bright, with April showers.
Ap. 24. Dull, with some rain.
Ap. 25. Dull early; then fine; then smoke came over.
To the French® and Flemish, Bischoff’s things most interesting.^
Ap. 26. Fine, but smoke came over.
To see Baillie,
Ap. 27. Generally fine between hard showers; some hail, which
made the evening very cold, a flash of lightning, a clap of thunder,
and a bright rainbow ; some grey cloud between showers ribbed and
draped and some wild bright big blown flix at the border of a great
rack with blue rising behind — though it was too big in character to
be called flix.
To Roehampton into retreat.'^
Ap. 28. Dull and (till evening) cold, with rain.
Ap. 29. Beautiful day ; delicate clouding ; wind.
Ap. 30. As yesterday but clouds rather bulkier and changing to
continuous clouding with a look of rain, and more wind. — Cuckoo. —
Heard and so saw black woodpecker.
May I. Clouded morning, fine afternoon.
May 2. Fine, with some haze, and warm.
This day, I think, 1 resolved.® See supra last 23rd of August and
infra May 1 1 .
♦ See sketch on p, 163.
JOURNAL (1868) 165
May 3. Bright, with haze — dark-in-bright — , hot, and like summer ;
when cloud formed it was delicately barred. — Cuckoo singing all
day. Oaks out, wych-elms not, except a few leaves.
May 4. Dull ; then fine ; cold, especially in wind. — Note the elm
here on one side of beautiful build with one great limb overhanging
the sunk fence into the Park and headed like the one near the house at
Shanklin but when seen from the opposite side to this limb uninterest-
ing or clumsy.
May 5. Cold.
Resolved to be a religious.
May 6. Fine but rather thick and with a very cold N.E. wind.
May 7. Warm; misty morning; then beautiful turquoise sky.
Home, after having decided to be a priest and religious but still
doubtful between St. Benedict and St. Ignatius.*
May 8. Dim sunlight ; wind not cold, yet East.
May 9. Sultry and, I believe, dull.
May 10. Thick, but fine evening.
May 1 1 . Dull ; afternoon fine.
Slaughter of the innocents.^ See above, the 2nd.
May 12. Fine.
May 13. Fine. — In some chestnuts the leafing is as if drawn with a
pair of compasses.
Met F. Nichols.^
May 14. Fine.
May 15. Fine and hot.
May 16. Dull.
May 1 7. Beautiful.
May 18. Fine.
May IQ. Bright and hot; fish-pellets of silver cloud.
Saw F. Weld.^
May 20. Fine.
To Croydon the cutting up is to begin after the 24th of June.
May 2 1 . Cooler ; fine, then pale sweep, with faint solar halo, and in
evening louring set or current in the clouds.
Cardinal d’ Andrea^ being dead the Times Italian correspondent
hints he was poisoned by the Pope or Jesuits.
May 22 Dull ; then rain, first fine, then hard. — Floral ‘sit’ of beech
leaves, the knots in fact realising green flowers, as in other cases ex-
plained by botanists. Till now too never noticed the scanty-leaved and
lissome thongs or lashes hanging as the extremities of the sprays,
mollia et ventosa flagella they are dropped or noted with their leaves.
May 2 3. Wet till in the afternoon, when bright skies and flying scarves
and grasses of much beauty appeared : 1 have a drawing* of a little bit.
May 24. Wet.
i66
JOURNAL (1868)
May 25. Showers in morning; then fine, windy, and dusty.
The Hodges came up.*
May 26. Beautiful.
May 27. Fine.
Home and then to Henry Leslie’s concert,^ where Sims Reeves sang
Adelaida and Halle played the Pathetic Sonata.
May 28. Fine.
To Oxford.
May 29. Fine but not bright ; thundershower.
Took my degree. — Saw Swinburne. Met Mr. Solomon.^
May 30. Fine.
Saw Wood. — Home. — F. Weld’s acceptance.**
May 31. Whitsunday. Dim sunlight.
To see Garrett.
Besides the fineness of May this is a very early season, in some things
a month earlier than last, they say. Corn is in some places in ear and
the forwardness of the grass is noticeable.
June 1 . Sunlight thick, 1 think.
June 2. Fair ; a little rain, Mamma says.
June 3. Cloudy and threatening rain, they say.
To the horse show at Islington.
June 4. Wet.
June 5. Fine,
June 6. Fine.
June 7. Fine.
June 8. Fine, with a shower and dim sunlight; cold.
June 9. Fine but not bright.
Mrs, Fred. Gurney’s death at Bovey Tracey on the 6th announced.®
June 10. Fine.
June II. Fine, with gracefully mooded clouding; then threatening.
June 12. Fine.
To the Architect. Exhibition.^ Furniture and glass by Burges.
Lameire’s*^ ‘Catholicon’. Suggestions by Moore worked out by an
architect for the Queen’s Theatre.
June 13. Very fine. Frederica’s mandoline* and cither,
June 14. The same.
June 15. The same; at sunset blown-flix clouds beautifully whirled
and shaken and after it a straight seam of cloud in the crown of the
sky I should think 90° long.
June 16. Dim all day. In the little book’ : ‘At this moment (about a
quarter to eight) the sky being clear and scarcely any dew perceptible
I see “something falling”, almost as plain as rain. Milicent and Arthur
see it too.’ — Honeysuckle at the hedge on the big bank in bloom, the
♦ MS reads Lemeirc.
JOURNAL (1868) 167
crests coiled back into a crown, the tongues or spurs curled at heel,
the lashes (anthers) giving off all round: this is their time of greatest
beauty. They look gold or honey colour. — Gold too is the colour of
the fringes in the middle of the syringa. — ^The passage of the roses
through the following scale of colours, perhaps from the dryness of the
season, most marked — scarlet, blood-colour, crimson, purple, then the
red retiring to the shaded or inner part of the petal the outer or coiled
part bleaches lilac or greenish.
Papa has succeeded in winding up Mrs. Thwaites’ affairs.* Mr.
Hewitt the Tebbitts’ solicitor highly complimented him on his manage-
ment. j(^40000 was to be paid down by the Tebbitts.
Cyril was on the river a little time back with his friend Mr. Ford
and his friend Mr. Peebles. The latter was drowned at Marlow, last
Saturday I believe.
June 17. Fine.
To lunch with Pater, then toMr. Solomon’s studio and the Academy.
— Mason’s^ Evening Hymn ; historical picture by Leys ; Millais^ — Sisters
(his three daughters), Stella, Rosalind and Celia, Pilgrims to St. PauVs
(Nelson’s tomb), and Souvenir of Velasquez which I did not hear;*
Leighton^ Ariadne, Aciaea, Jonathan's token to David, Acme and Sep-
timius; Walker’s® Vagrants; Hemy’s^ THe de Flandre, near Antwerp;
Christmas morning 1866 (sea-piece) — ^Brett; Prinsep’s and Calderon’s
things not so interesting as usual ; Poynter’s^ Catapult ; Moore’s® (A)
Azaleas ; Sandys^ — a study of a head, long hair fully detailed ; she bites
one lock — ; Watts’*® Clytie, a remarkable bust, and paintings too —
Esau and Jacob, the Wife of Pygmalion; Legros** — The Refectory and
Henry VIII being shewn Holbein’s pictures by Sir Thomas More
(quite Holbeinesque) . Walker’s and Mason’s things most interesting.
In Spain they say the harvest will be two thirds below the average,
in S. France there is drought, in eastern counties no rain for 8 weeks.
June 18. Fine and windy; cooler.
June 19. The same; wind NE. — Jones says the corn will be
‘shrimpled up’.
June 20. Louring.
To Madame Leupold’s*^ concert, where J
Madle. Mela sang in a tenor and a girl J .
played the violin and another, Madle. Vogt, / ^
the finger-glasses (Mattauphone), and cer- j n
tainly that instrument is chromatically more \ jf
perfect than the violin even and of course ^
the tone what one knows and magical. But / \
‘it is the sport’ to w^atch her fingers flying, and
at the distance the articulations vanishing,
* Thus in MS,
l68 JOURNAL (l868)
they wave like flakes or fins or leaves of white. Madam Leupold
played four short pieces of Schumann.
June 21. Fine; after sunset (q.v.) threatening; hard rain at night
June 22. Rainy morning ; fine afternoon ; sunset wine-coloured and
rather wild ; cool.
June 23. Raining.
June 24. Cloudy. Letter^ from Bridges, who is now home.
June 25. Fine.
To the Coleridges’^ at Hanwell and then to an evening party at the
Husbands’.^
June 26. Bright but dark-in-bright, sky painted and with faint
curdling vapour rolling over, distances dim blue, and yet, near, the
edges all sharpened, every grain in the sky-line of Caen wood and all
the slant cards of the Dugmores’ limes being crisply given : on such
days the body there is in the air gives depth and projection to the
landscape ; sheet, moistness, and bloom to the shadows ; sobriety at
once and richness to the colours; and especially as I saw with one
ricked oak in the foreground of Caen wood an opaque, solid, gummy
tone to the dark picked oak crests.
June 27. Silver mottled clouding, and clearer; else like yesterday.
At the National Gallery.^ That Madonna by Beltraffio. Query
has not Giotto the inslress of loveliness ? Mantegna’s draperies.
June 28. Fine.
To Aunt Kate’s, who had just seen Miss Dolben.^
June 29. Fine.
June 30. Fine; evening clouded and easterly. — Spanish chestnuts
in thickest honey-white meal.
July I. After a little rain fine.
Poor Cyril! — The same day a letter from Edgell^ to say he was
received into the Church the day before.
July 2. Fine; delicate clouding — w^hite rose cloud there was which
I observed to form angled pieces thus —
July 3. Dull morning; then fine; rain in evening. — ^The sea under
dark clouds became quite black — fat and black but not dark — and
when we were over a bank took white crests. — Saw some hops
trellised. The Belgian hop-poles much higher than ours. — ^The leafage
in England this year picked, nice, and scanty.
Started with Ed. Bond for Switzerland. We went by Dover and
Ostende to Brussels.
July 4. Dull, with rain. After sunset, when we were on the further
side of the river at Cologne, spanning the town the cathedral, and
other towers long girders or meridians of pale grey cloud, one within
the other.
JOURNAL (1868) 169
Yes, the cathedral is very meagre.
July 5. To mass at the cathedral. Then up the Rhine to Mainz.
The Rhine hills are shaped in strict planes and coigns. Where the
banks are flat mossy or velvet eyots of poplar edged with osier rise
plump from the river.
The day was, I think, dull.
Watching from close the motion of a flag in the wind.
July 6. Rainy till lately (5 o’clock), when a low rainbow backed by
the Black Forest hills, which were partly dimmed out with wet mist,
appeared, and — what I never saw before — rays of shadow crossed it,
all its round, and where they crossed it paled the colour. It was a
‘blue bow’.^ That evening^ saw a shepherd leading his flock through
the town.
By railway to Basel. Beautiful view from the train of the hills near
Miilheim etc. They were clothed with wood and at the openings in
this and indeed all upward too they were charactered by vertical
stemming, dim in the distance. Villages a little bare like Brill rise in
blocks of white and deep russet tiling. The nearer hills terraced with
vine-yards deep and vertical, the pale grey shaven poles close on the
railway leaning capriciously towards one another. — Here we met the
young Englishman who had been to see Charlotte Bronte’s school in
Brussels. — The whole country full of walnut and cherry trees ; olean-
ders in bloom ; creeper is trained on houses and even the stations and
waves in the wind.
But Basel at night! with a full moon waking the river and sending
up straight beams from the heavy clouds that overhung it. We saw
this from the bridge. The river runs so strong that it keeps the bridge
shaking. Then we walked about the place and first of all had the ad-
venture of the little Englishwoman with her hat off. We went through
great spacious streets and places dead still and came to fountains of
the clearest black water through which pieces of things at the bottom
gleamed white. We got up to a height where a bastion-shaped vertical
prominence shaded with chestnut trees looked down on the near roofs,
which then in the moonlight were purple and velvety and edged
along with ridges and chimneys of chalk white. A woman came to a
window with a candle and some mess she was making, and then that
was gone and there was no light anywhere but the moon. We heard
music indoors about. We saw the courtyard of a charming house with
some tree pushing to the windows and a fountain. A church too of
immensely high front all dead and flush to the top and next to it
three most graceful flamboyant windows. Nothing could be more
taking and fantastic than this stroll.
July 7. Fine morning; rain between Basel and Lucerne and in the
evening.
170 JOURNAL (1868)
We saw the Munster and the Museum —where is a noble dead
Christ by the younger Holbein, but the other Holbeins were unim-
pressive ; also a Crucifixion by a German master in which the types of
the two thieves, especially the good thief— a young man with a
moustache and modern air — ^were in the wholeness and general scape
of the anatomy original and interesting. (The prominence of the
peculiar square-scaped drapery etc in
Holbein and his contemporaries is
remarkable— e.g. as a determination
of German art.) There was one of those
drawings in white upon black, purple,
or bronze paper — I do not know
the technical name — by Diirer — the ,
crucifixion: the angel who is taking ,
the soul of the good thief has the
drapery flying in two coils and the last of these coils shell-rayed some-
thing as opposite.^
Storks’ nests on the church roofs.
By rail through beautiful country to Lucerne: the Reuss deep
green : our first view of Alps. Saw Thorvaldsen’s monument^ in the
evening, with the bats flitting round the pond.
Swiss trees are, like English, well inscaped— in quains.^
July 8, Fine.
From Lucerne by steamer to Kiissnacht, thence walk across to
Immensee, thence by steamer over lake of Zug to Arth, whence up
the Rigi.^ — The normal colour of the lake water, from near at least,
bottle blue; from some way up we saw it with the sea shoaling
colours, purple and blue, the purple expressing the rose of the chord
to the eye ( — in the same way as the same colour in a rose fading
expresses the blue of the chord — the converse case: in fact it may
perhaps be generalised that when this happens the modulation in
question is the flat of the next term and not the sharp of the former
one). From the top the lakes egg-blue, blue strongly modulated to
green. — At sunset featherbed sky with a fluffy and jointed rib-cloud :
I noticed one ‘flock’ of which I made a drawing was a long time with
little change. — Huddling and precipitation of the fir woods down one
side of the Rossberg following the fall of water like the sheepflock at
Shanklin did.
July 9. Before sunrise looking out of window saw a noble scape of
stars — the Plough all golden falling, Cassiopeia on end with her
bright quains pointing to the right, the graceful bends of Perneus
underneath her, and some great star whether Capella or not I am not
sure risen over the brow of the mountain. Sunrise we saw well : the
north landscape was blighty but the south, the important one, with
JOURNAL (1868) 171
the Alps, clear ; lower down all was mist and flue of white cloud, which
grew thicker as day went on and like a junket lay scattered on the
lakes. The sun lit up the bright acres of the snows at first with pink but
afterwards clear white : the snow of the Bernese Highland remained
from its distance pinkish all day. — ^The mountain ranges, as any series
or body of inanimate like things not often seen, have the air of persons
and of interrupted activity ; they are multitudinous too, and also they
express a second level with an upper world or shires of snow. — In
going down between Pilatus and a long streak of cloud the blue sky
was greenish. Since I have found this colour is seen in looking from
the snow to the sky but why I do not understand : can there possibly
be a rose hue suppressed in the white ( — purpurea candidior nive^) ?
Alpine cows dun-coloured and very well made. Melodious lines of a
cow’s dewlap.
The stations^ painted all the way down.
Down the Rigi, entering the mist soon, to Waggis, where we
lunched under thick low plane trees. By steamer to Fliielen and then
to Lucerne again. On the way back rain fell and then a very low
rainbow against the sides of the lake colouring the trees, red, green,
and purple, and the red being prominent it looked like a slice of melon.
The straight quains and planing of the Alps were only too clear.
When the short bubbling crest of a ripple is dropped or slipped
behind, the undulation advancing but not its angular edge, it makes a
little crease in the water and this is just visibly fringed with little tucks.
Hard rain in evening and then fine, when I walked with Mr. Cold-
well to the Three Lindens.^
July 10. Dull; then fine.
We walked by the lake to Alpnach and when a little past Hergiswyl
fell in with that liberalising Swiss guide who clinked glasses at lunch
with 'k votre sant^, monsieur!’ and approved of E.B’s dicta and epi-
grams. At Alpnach we took a char to Lungern, passing the lakes of
Sarnen and Lungern and between them a beautiful pass in which the
valley was, as so often, flat like a billiard board. In the thick fir and
beech woods to our left climbing the sides of the
mountains the spraying was baffling and beauti-
ful, like netting pulled horizontally and in places
broken. In fact horizontally prolate gadroons.'*
Typical Swiss villages. Cherry and walnut trees everywhere. — Of
the wood scale-work on the houses some is plain but some as below
— nippled. — In leaving Lucerne saw the best
shaped and proportioned barn I ever saw. It had
two openings with big lattices: the roof, which
was big and prominent, was hipped at one end,
at the other not.
172
JOURNAL (1868)
July II. Fine.
We took a guide up the Wylerhom but the top being clouded dis*
missed him and stayed up the mountain, lunching by a waterfall.
Presently after long climbing — ^for there was a good chance of a
clearance — ^we nearly reached the top, when a cloud coming on thick
frightened me back ; had we gone on we should have had the view,
for it cleared quite. Still we saw the neighbouring mountains well.
The snow is often cross-harrowed and lies too in the straightest paths
as though artificial, which again comes from the planing. In the sheet
it glistens yellow to the sun. How fond of and warped to the mountains
it would be easy to become I For every cliff and limb and edge and
jutty has its own nobility. — ^Two boys came down the mountain
yodelling. — ^We saw the snow in the hollows for the first time. In one
the surface was crisped across the direction of the cleft and the other
way, that is across the broader crisping and down the stream, combed :
the stream ran below and smoke came from the hollow : the edge of
the snow hewn in curves as if by moulding-planes. — Crowd of moun-
tain flowers — gentians ; gentianellas* ; blood-red lucerne^ ; a deep blue
glossy spiked flower^ like plantain, flowering gradually up the spike,
so that at the top it looks like clover or honeysuckle ; rich big harebells
glistening black like the cases of our veins when dry and heated from
without ; and others. All the herbage enthronged with every fingered
or fretted leaf. — Firs very tall, with the swell of the branching on the
outer side of the slope so that the peaks seem to point inwards to the
mountain peak, like the lines of the Parthenon, and the outline melo-
dious and moving on many focuses. — I wore my pagharec^ and
turned it with harebells below and gentians in two rows above like
double pan-pipes. — In coming down we lost our way and each had a
dangerous slide down the long wet grass of a steep slope.
Waterfalls not only skeined but silky too — one saw it from the inn
across the meadows : at one quain of the rock the water glistened above
and took shadow below, and the rock was reddened a little way each
side with the wet, which sets off the silkiness.
Goat-flocks, each goat with its bell.
Ashes here are often pollarded and look different from ours and they
give off their sprays at the outline in marked parallels justifying the
Italian painters.
July 12. Bright in the morning: how the trees shone in the Briinig
pass ! Dim over the lake of Brienz in the afternoon and threatening,
and in the night lightning and violent rain.
To mass at the church. It was an odd sight: all the women sat on
one side and you saw hundreds of headdresses all alike. The hair is
taken back and (apparently) made into one continuous plait with
narrow white linen, which crosses the lock of hair not always the same
JOURNAL (1868) 173
way but zigzag (so that perhaps there must be more than one linen
strip), and the alternation of lock and linen gives the look of rows of
regular teeth. The fastening is by a buckle (Badeker calls it) or plate
of silver generally broadened at the ends or sometimes by a silver
or gold pin, wavy and headed by a blunted diamond-shaped piece
gracefully enamelled. Over the middle of the pin or buckle or just
above it the linen is broadened out and covers the inside of the two
concentric circles which the plaits of hair make and, below, one of the
plaits is looped up in the middle. The rest of the Oberwalden dress I
forget but that of Bern is a black boddice with a peaked stomacher,
square-cut at the top, passing under the arms and held up by bands or
braces over the shoulders; the shoulders, bosom, and arms to the
elbows are covered with white linen ; sometimes from the front to the
back of each shoulder there hangs a silver chain fastened at each end
by prettily worked buckles. Some women we met were dressed in
Italian fashion with red borders to their gowns, that curious red and
green diaper border one sees in Italian pictures, and black steeple hats.
Their features in the same canton are of Italian cast — straight eye-
brows across and thick noses as in modern English art, with a modest
expression of face.
We walked by the Briinig pass to Brienz. In the pass first noticed the
way in which clusters of water like the moistened end of a pocket
handkerchief wave and fall, down the cascade, and in the Staubbach*
we have looked at them since and other places : at a distance they are
like the wax gutturings* on a candle and nearer, losing solidity, like
rockets when they dissolve and head their way downwards.
When we were in the plain of the valley approaching Brienz lake
saw some small plots or fields of very slender but thick-grown grass,
vertical, dark green, and very rich: it shimmered as if looked at
through glass windows.
In the frets and floral mouldings of the houses, often of much beauty,
there lies all the spring of a national mode.
E.B. says the grasshoppers are like a thousand fairy sewing-
machines.
Idyllic tea-garden at Brienz. — ^From there we crossed by row-boat
to the Giessbach.* At night it was illuminated.
July 13. The Giessbach falls like heaps of snow or like lades of
shining rice. The smaller falls in it shew gaily sprigged, fretted, and
curled edges dancing down, like the crispiest endive.
By steamer to Interlaken, whence we walked to Lauterbrunnen up
the valley of the Liitschine all in foam, with a Frenchman, a man of
cultivation and a great mountaineer, as our companion for most of
the way.
♦ Thus in MS.
*74
JOURNAL (1868)
I never saw anything like the richness of the herbage here — one
field especially, where those boys were playing tipcat, mixed of fat and
gleaming dandelion and buttercup-leaf which had all its lobes like
antlers. In other places was chervil, dock, etc.
Fine morning, rain in afternoon; and this rain by the evening
browned the Staubbach in extraordinary fashion.
July 14. Dull.
My feet being sore I stayed at the inn while E.B. went to Miirren.
July 15. Showers; little sun.
Walked to the Hotel Bellevue on the Little Scheidegg.
The mountains and in particular the Silberhorn* are shaped and .
nippled like the sand in an hourglass and the Silberhorn has a sub-
sidiary pyramidal peak naped sharply down the sides. Then one of
their beauties is in nearly vertical places the fine pleatings of the snow
running to or from one another, like the newness of lawn in an alb
and sometimes cut off short as crisp as celery.
There are round one of the heights of the Jungfrau two ends or falls
of a glacier. If you took the skin of a white tiger or the deep fell of some
other animal and swung it tossing high in the air and then cast it out
before you it would fall and so clasp and lap round anything in its way
just as this glacier does and the fleece would part in the same rifts :
you must suppose a lazuli under-flix to appear. The spraying out of
one end I tried to catch but it would have taken hours : it was this
which first made me think of a tiger-skin, and it ends in tongues and
points like the tail and claws : indeed the ends of the glaciers are knotted
or knuckled like talons. Above, in a plane nearly parallel to the eye,
becoming thus foreshortened, it forms saddle-cuives with dips and
swells.
The view was not good : a few times we saw the Silberhorn but the
Eiger never clearly and the Jungfrau itself scarcely or not at all.
It is curious how blue the glimpses of the mountain-sides and valleys
look through the lifting cloud.
July 16. Some showers in morning and the mountains never free
from cloud ; finer afternoon, with a silvery and steely sweep.
Down to Grindelwald, seeing a pretty falling stream by the way.
But before going down I walked over hills where the great and vivid
Alpine violets grew on the little brows of grass between the shale
landslips, to see the glacier. It was painful to look at in the blaze of the
sunlight. It was haggard and chopped. Above it had a theatre or
hollow shield for its upper member, its lower was a tongue-like slope
like ploughed land.
Two plants especially with strongly inscaped leaves cover the moun-
tain pastures. The bigger-leaved one* has the leaves seven-lobed and
each lobe paged so as to take shadow and shadow. It has a tiny rough
JOURNAL (l868) 175
head of yellow flower. The other seemed some kind of potentilla:
there weis a yellow flower just like potentilla on the mountains but
whether the blossom belonged to the leaf in question I never quite
settled. This leaf was a fan of seven or of five fingers, downy, and like
lupine but smaller, creeping and very graceful.
Alpine roses take the place of heather : they have the same small
leaves and sinewy-turning woody branches and make the same crisp
beds.
At Grindelwald are two glaciers, the upper and lower, which are in
fact two descending limbs of one. I shall speak of them from my
knowledge since. Above where the mountains make hollows they lie
saddle-wise in them and then shouldering through the gorges are
broken up — but the question is whether by the pressure or the slope.
In slanted brooks the bias keeps falling from bank to bank across and
so knits the stream and glaciers also are cross-hatched with their
crevasses but they form waves which lie regularly and in horizontals
across the current. (So water does in fact, wimpling, but these
wimplings have the air of being only resultants or accumulations ;
perhaps they too are a real inscape here seen descending and vanish-
ing.) In the gut these glaciers are hollowed in the middle, not rounded
up. Below this they open out and part lengthwise. These Grindelwald
glaciers are remarkable for their ruggedness, I believe : the upper one
looks like rows of dogteeth. The blue colour (which compared by a
glance with the sky is greener) retiring into these clefts looks like starch
in ruffs. Becoming deep within it looks like deep flesh-cuts where
one sees the blood flush and welling up. — ^We went into the absurd
grotto.
The height enclosed between the two glaciers is the Mettemberg.
Behind them lie the Viescherhorner, on the left the Schreckhorner and
Wetterhorner, on the right the Eiger etc.
We crossed among others a muddy river, which shewed its scaping
the better for being muddy. I notice that those great hoof-shaped
members by their gloss, solidity, and the wimpled make which they
get from the discontinuous, slightly jolting flow of the water look like
great pieces of glue and the edges of broken spray which overlap
them toss like thousands of little dancing bones : this comes from the
drops being looped to each other or to the main water by tiny tapering
necks.
Beauty of the sycomores here, native to the soil, soft-horned, and
falling apart like ashes. The cherry-trees too have a graceful growth,
falling over and so shewing the wood of the branches uppermost and
with the droop and outward pointing of the curling leaves making
pinions which trail to the ground.
July 17. Up the Faulhorn* with Mr. Wilson, a young American.
178 JOURNAL (1868)
cindcry lily-white stones. — In or near one of these openings the guide
cries out ‘Voulez-vous une Alp-rose?’ and up he springs the side of the
hill and brings us each bunches of flowers down.
In one place over a smooth table of rock came slipping down a
blade of water looking like and as evenly crisped as fruitnets let drop
and falling slack.
We saw Handeck waterfall. It is in fact the meeting of two waters,
the right the Aar sallow and jade-coloured, the left a smaller stream
of clear lilac foam. It is the greatest fall we have seen. The lower half
is hidden in spray. I watched the great bushes of foam-water, the
texture of branchings and water-spandrils which makes them up. At
their outsides nearest the rock they gave off showers of drops struiig
together into little quills which sprang out in fans.
On crossing the Aar again there was as good a fall as some we have 1
paid to see, all in jostling foam-bags.
Across the valley too we saw the fall of the Gelmer — like milk chasing
round blocks of coal ; or a girdle or long purse of white weighted with
irregular black rubies, carelessly thrown aside and lying in jutty bends,
with a black clasp of the same stone at the top — for those were the
biggest blocks, squared, and built up, as it happened, in lessening
stories, and the cascade enclosed them on the right and left hand with
its foam ; or once more like the skin of a white snake square-pied with
black.
July 20. Fine.
Walked down to the Rhone glacier. It has three stages — first a
smoothly-moulded bed in a pan or theatre of thorny peaks, swells of
ice rising through the snow-sheet and the snow itself tossing and fretting
into the sides of the rock walls in spray-like points : this is the first stage
of the glaciers generally ; it is like bright-plucked water swaying in a
pail — ; second, after a slope nearly covered with landslips of moraine,
was a ruck of horned waves steep and narrow in the gut : now in the
upper Grindelwald glacier between the bed or highest stage was a
descending limb which was like the rude and knotty bossings of a
strombus shell — ; third the foot, a broad limb opening out and reach-
ing the plain, shaped like the fan-fin of a dolphin or a great bivalve
shell turned on its face, the flutings in either case being suggested by
the crevasses and the ribs by the risings between them, these being
swerved and inscaped strictly to the motion of the mass. Or you may
compare the three stages to the heel, instep, and ball or toes of a foot.
— ^The second stage looked at from nearer appeared like a box of
plaster of Paris or starch or toothpowder, a little moist, tilted up and
then struck and jarred so that the powder broke and tumbled in
shapes and rifts.
We went into the grotto and also the vault from which the Rhone
JOURNAL (1868) 179
flows. It looked like a blue tent and as you went further in changed to
lilac. As you come out the daylight glazes the groins with gleaming
rosecolour. The ice inside has a branchy wire texture. The man
shewed us the odd way in which a little piece of ice will stick against
the walls — as if drawn by a magnet.
Standing on the glacier saw the prismatic colours in the clouds, and
worth saying what sort of clouds : it was fine shapeless skins of fretted
make, full of eyebrows or like linings of curled leaves which one finds
in shelved corners of a wood.
I had a trudge over the glacier and a tumble over the side moraine,
which was one landslip of limestone. It was neighboured however
by hot sweet smells and many flowers — small crimson pinks, the
brown tulip-like flower* we have seen so often, another which we first
saw yesterday like Solomon’s seaP but rather coarser with a spike of
greenish veiny-leaved blossom, etc.
At the table d^hdte of the inn there I first saw that repulsive type of
French face. It is hard to seize what it is. The outline is oval but cut
away at the jaws ; the eyes are big, shallow-set, close to the eyebrows,
and near, the upper lid straight and long, the lower brought down to
a marked corner in the middle, the pupils large and clear ; the nostrils
prominent ; the lips fleshy, long, and unwaved, with a vertical curling
at the end (in one case at any rate) ; the nose curved hollow or so
tending ; the head large ; the skin fair — white and scarlet colour.
We drove down the Rhone valley to Visp and soon entered a
Catholic canton. The churches here have those onion steeples nearly
all, the onion being in some cases newly covered with bright tin or
lead : they remind one ofitinselled humming-tops too. — ^They enclose
the head of the cross in a triangle as below very commonly : it looks
like a beacon at sea.
Soon we saw the vines trellised. — Hemp swaying in its
sweet-smelling thickset beds. — ^That sprayed silvery weed
something like tamarisk leaned over the road: what is it? —
Maize very high. — Spanish chestnuts : their inscape here bold,
jutty, somewhat oak-like, attractive, the branching visible and the
leaved peaks spotted so as to make crests of eyes.
Plushy look and very rich warm green of mountain grass, noticed
especially at the Rhone glacier.
In the valley a girl with spindle and distaflT tending cows.
July 21. Bright.
We walked up the valley of the Visp to Zermatt, a beautiful valley
and the river in torrent.
Vines, as I have often seen, like the fretting of pike-blades.
Chalky blue of cornflowers.
We lunched at St, Niclaus and shortly after leaving it saw the Little
i8o JOURNAL (1868)
Matterhorn and the Breithorn closing the valley. The latter is like a
broad piece of hacked or knocked flint-stone — flint of the half-chalky
sort, for the mountain is covered with snow, while the breaks of rock
remind one of the dark eyes or spots in the white ; and this resemblance
did not disappear even at much nearer.
Tall larches by the river.
Coffee-foam waterfalls ran into the Visp, which above one of these
being paler and becoming at the place a little smoother — for else it
never for a hand’s breadth could recover from one crumpled sheet of
jolting foam — looked like a strew of waving poppy-leaf.
Note how river billows all look back. ;
Not unapparent that the Matterhorn is like a Greek galley strande 4 ,
a reared-up rostrum — the sharp quains or arretes the gunwales, th^
deck of the forecastle looking upon Zermatt, the figurehead looking
the other way reaching up in the air, the cutwater and ram descending
and abutting on a long reef — the gable-length of the mountain.
July 22. Morning fine; in the afternoon rain as we went up the
RiffeP ; fine evening.
Up the Riffel from which, the point of view somewhat changing,
the Matterhorn looks like a sea-lion couchant or a sphinx, and again
like the hooded-snake frontal worn by the Egyptian kings.
After a dinner up a height from which we saw a little less fully the
Gornergrat^ prospect — on the extreme left (beyond which the Gorner-
grat heights rose) Monte Rosa, then the Lyskamm, then the Jumeaux,
then the Breithorn, and, after the break made by the Riffelhorn im-
mediately before us, the Matterhorn. (The Little Matterhorn is thus
eclipsed.) Of these the first four names are round-headed; the Litde
Matterhorn couples the two inscapes, being a sharpened bolt rising
from a flattened shoulder; in the Great Matterhorn the shoulder —
not what is specially so called, which rises to within a little of the sum-
mit, but a much lower ridge — is unimportant, the stem of the moun-
tain edged and sharpened to an unparalleled degree — a mere fang — ,
but still lancet-shaped, convex : the range on the other side of Zermatt
and skirting the Zermatt valley are concave, cusped ; they run like
waves in the wind, ricked and sharply inscaped — ^first on the left and
furthest the Dent Blanche ; next in two crests which gracefully accent
a shell head the Gabelhorn ; then the Rothhorn, a rickety crest pitch-
ing over, acutely leaved or notched ; then the Weisshom, of which the
lines are the ideal inflexions of a mountain-peak ; after that, across the
Zermatt valley, the Mischabel and the view intercepted.
The Monte Rosa range are dragged over with snow like cream. As
we looked at them the sky behind them became dead purple, the effect
unique ; and then the snow according to its lie and its faces differenced
itself, the upward-looking faces taking shade, the vertical light, like
JOURNAL (1868) 181
lovely damask. Above the Breithom Antares sparkled like a bright
crab-apple tingling in the wind.
July 23. Bright morning; thunderous afternoon.
Up to the Gornergrat. It is the peculiarity of this view, the finest
we saw, that the Monte Rosa range appeals to the eye solely by form,
the sense of size disappearing, becoming irrelevant and not rising in
the mind. On the round-headed height which lies in front of the Ju-
meaux and on the Breithorn, both over-lipped with heavy cowls of
snow, the glassy reflections within the shadow very noticeable, and in
the Breithorn especially the wavings and impressions of these great
lips or cornices crisply cut off below remind one of thatch-eaves and
rows of little three-cornered drops, the beginnings probably of the
long pleatings noticed before, of the guitae in the Doric entablature.
It was easy to see the cross-hatched lines of flow in the glaciers below
the Gornergrat : they — or it, one should say — make a table or stage
from which the mountains spring. — ^The feeder-glacier from Monte
Rosa is like a turbot’s tail.
In this great glacier the water in the holes was really of Prussian,
that is green blue.
July 24. Bright.
E.B. started in the night for the Cima di Jazi* ; I stayed behind
being ill.
At sunset great bulks of brassy cloud hanging round, which changed
their colour to bright reds over the sundown and to fruittree-blossom
colour opposite ; later a honey-brown edged the Dent Blanche and
Weisshorn ridge.
Note that a slender race of fine flue cloud inscaped in continuous
eyebrow curves hitched on the Weisshorn peak as it passed : this shews
the height of this kind of cloud, from its want of shadow etc not other-
wise discoverable.
July 25. But too bright.
Up at two to ascend the Breithorn^. Stars twiring^ brilliantly. Taurus
up, a pale light stressily edging the eastern skyline, and lightning
mingled with the dawn. In the twilight we tumbled over the moraine
and glacier until the sunrise brightly fleshed the snow of the Breithorn
before us and then the colour changing through metallic shades of
yellow recovered to white.
We were accompanied by a young Mr. Pease of Darlington, his
guide Gasser, and ours Wclchen.
From the summit the view on the Italian side was broken by endless
ranges of part-vertical dancing cloud, the highest and furthest flaked
or foiled like fungus and coloured pink. But, as the Interlaken French-
man said, the mountain summits are not the places for mountain
views, the things do not look high when you are as high as they are ;
182
JOURNAL (1868)
besides Monte Rosa, the Lyskamm, etc did not make themselves ; shape
as weU as size went : then the cold feet, the spectacles, the talk, and the
lunching came in. Even with one companion ecstasy is almost ban-
ished : you want to be alone and to feel that, and leisure — all pressure
taken oif.
From the chalet on the Col St. Theodule an Italian guide took us
over the glacier and down to Breil. So we entered Italy. At Breil E.B.
was sick. Tyndal’ we found there preparing to climb the Matterhorn :
he very kindly saw E.B. and prescribed a treatment.
The valley is beautiful. The mountains bounding it give one more
the impression of height than I have seen in any other valley. — I was
noticing on each side of a buttress of rock two fan-shaped slant tables
of green, flush with one another and laced over with a plant or root-
work of zigzag brooks ravelled out and shining.
July 26. Sunday. There was no church nearer than Valtournanches,
but there was to be mass said in a little chapel for the guides going up
with Tyndal at two o’clock in the morning and so I got up for this,
my burnt face in a dreadful state and running. We went down with
lanterns. It w'as an odd scene; two of the guides or porters served ; the
noise of a torrent outside accompanied the priest. Then to bed again.
Day fine. W^e did not gel a completely clear view of the Matterhorn
from this side.
In the afternoon wc walked down the valley, which is beautiful, to
Valtournanches. — ^We passed a gorge at the end of which it was
curious to see a tree rubbing and ruffling with the water at the neck
just above a fall. — Then we saw a grotto, that is deep and partly covered
chambers of rock through which the torrent river runs. — little
beyond, I think, was a wayside chapel with a woman kneeling at a
window a long time. — Further, across the valley a pretty village, the
houses white, deep-eaved, pierced with small sc|uare windows at
effective distances, and crossed with balconies, and above, a grove of
ash or sycomore or both, sprayed all one way like water- weed beds in
a running stream, very English-looking. — Beyond again, in the midst
of a slope of meadow slightly pulled like an unsteady and swelling sur-
face of water, some ashes growing in a beautifully clustered ‘bouquet’,
the skeleton as below — the inward bend of the left-hand stem being
partly real, partly apparent and helped by rvxd rix^v arep-
yovajj ^ — ^Dim mountains down the valley red in the sunset.
July 27. Walked down the valley to Chatillon, the road
soon passing through pleasant groves of Spanish chestnut
full of great scattered rocks. From Chatillon, where I felt
ill, we drove up the valley of the Doire or Dora Baltea to Aosta and I
saw very little of it. It was facing the sun the whole way and very
hot. Aosta is a pleasant place beautifully situated.
JOURNAL (1868)
183
Day fine.
July 28. First fine ; then on the road a thunderstorm with hard rain,
the thunder musical and like gongs and rolling in great floors of sound ;
this cleared but at St. Remy was rain and thunderstorm again ; when
this was over we started for the Hospice.
We drove to St. Remy. As we approached it the hills ‘fledged’ with
larches which hung in them shaft after shaft like green-feathered
arrows.
Noticed also the cornfields below us laid by the rain in curls like a
lion’s mane — very impressive.
We walked on to the St. Bernard Hospice.
July 29. I will put down from Badeker about the Hospice. The
monks enter the order about 18 or 19 and leave the Hospice at about
33 broken down in health and retire to some dependency like Martigny
in a mild air. The expenses are large and increasing. Once well en-
dowed it has lost what it had and now has little of its own but some
land in the cantons of Valais and Vaud. It is mainly supported by
subsidies from the French and Italian governments and by charitable
contributions, but of the latter very little comes from travellers and it
is clear from the gross receipts at the end of the year that many even
tourists avail themselves of the monks* hospitality and give little or
nothing.
We saw the dogs and the morgue . — ^Wc walked down the pass to
Liddes, where wc took a lift to Orsieres.
At Orsieres there is an interesting spired tower : I got into it. It is
pierced with pair-lights first, higher with a triplet. The spire, which is
not acute, has a coronet part-way up pierced with small lights. The
arches were round. Badeker calls it ‘a remarkable and very ancient
tower like that of St. Pierre’, of which the date is loio. This we had
passed without noticing. So far as I understand, the prevalence of
these deep round-headed triplets of windows in the church towers is
due to the perpetuation of this type after its common extinction and
to imitation in fact down to this time : they appear both in Switzer-
land and in Germany. At Sembranchier in the valley of the Dranse
was a tower coronetted and otherwise like that of Orsieres but later,
the tower lights well and boldly foiled : the spire had been capped with
briglit metal.
After lunching at Orsieres we walked down the valley of the Dranse
to Martigny.
We had left the Hospice in dropping cloud ; in the valley it was fine ;
at Orsieres it rained but was clear when we started ; then it clouded
over and rained ; at Martigny thunderstorm and a bright low ribbon
of rainbow ; then fine again.
From Martigny we took the train to Vevey. — In the train I was
i84 journal (1868)
noticing that strange rotten-woven cloud which shapes in leaf over
leaf of wavy or eyebrow texture: it is like fine webs or gossamers
held down by many invisible threads on the under sides against a
wind which between these points kept blowing them up into bells.
The curious rottenness about them reminds one of that dark green
silken oozy seaweed with holes in it which lines and hangs from
piers and slubbered wood in the sea. This case was a well-pronounced
one.
Later in the plain of the Rhone approaching the lake white-rose
clouds formed the ground of the sky, near the sundown taking straight
ranks and gilded by the light ; in front heavy dark masses with tiheir
edges soaked red and fragments of bright thread.
At Vevey there was dancing in the salle a manger of the Tiois
Couronnes and the moon outside was roughing the lake with silver
and dinting and tooling it with sparkling holes.
July 30. Morning grey ; soft braided clouds overhanging the lake,
which was dim ; fine afternoon and evening.
By steamer to Geneva. On board we made the acquaintance of Mr.
Bicknell and Mrs. Allen.
July 31. Fine. The lake sharp dark blue from the shore.
In morning to see the cathedral, which is remarkable for the great
beauty of the capitals, especially their abacuses ; the mouldings too of
two arches near the door we came in by were very beautiful and
elaborate and wanted long study, which I could not give ; there was
also interesting brass-work (for iron-work) on some doors, the outer
band bordering the outlines of the door being pierced with a succession
of quaterfoils etc perpetually varied.
In the afternoon we took the train for Paris and passed through a
country of pale grey rocky hills of a strong and simple outscape
covered with fields of wormy green vines.
Aug. I. Through Paris to Dieppe and by Newhaven home.
Day bright. Sea calm, with little walking wavelets edged with fine
eyebrow crispings, and later nothing but a netting or chain-work
on the surface, and even that went, so that the smoothness was
marbly and perfect and, between the just-corded near sides of the
waves rising like fishes’ backs and breaking with darker blue the pale
blue of the general field, in the very sleek hollows came out golden
crumbs of reflections from the chalk cliffs. — Peach-coloured sundown
and above some simple gilded messes of cloud, which later became
finer, smaller, and scattering all away. — Here the sunlight had
been dim.
The fields are burnt white, the heat has gone on.
Aug. 2. Sunlight dim but moonlight bright.
Aug. 3. Fine and hot.
185
JOURNAL (1868)
Spiculation in a dry blot in a smooth inkstand.
Aug. 4. Fine and hot.
Saw Edgcll and sat talking with him
in Regent’s Park.
Aug. 5. Sunlight dim; radiations in
the sky at night.
Aug. 6. Rain at last.
Aug. 7. Dull morning; threatening
afternoon, with some rain.
An owl has come even to Oak Hill
and I saw it wheeling through the
moonlight in front and presently there were scuffling sounds in the
bushes.
Aug. 8. Fine.
A letter from Maples* which made me go to see him at his curacy in
Soho.
Aug. 9. Fine.
Aug. 10. Fine but dim.
It is said the swifts have flown unusually early.
Aug. 1 1 . Sultry dim morning ; dark afternoon ; then hard rain ; fine
nightfall.
Aug. 12. Fine.
Aug. 13. A downpour till evening.
Aug. 14. Fine. There were the travelling stack clouds with straight-
cut under-sides but yet later the sky was somewhat overcast and a
little rain fell.
Aug. 15. Fine.
Aug. 16. Rain.
Aug. 17. Dark, soft, and wet.
Saw Garrett.^
Aug, 18. Morning and night wet; fine afternoon with snow-white
flying scarf-ends in the clouds.
Balloons seen at Willesden,*
Aug. 19. Dark, with wet.
In Devonshire wants = moles. — Aunt Annie told me that a lady
who knew that country had told her of a field near Chester^ with a
tumulus in it, where a figure in gold armour was said to stand at
midnight : some years before a man had seen it. The owner to lay the
ghost had the mound opened and a beautiful suit of golden Roman-
British armour was found in it. She quotes it to shew the persistency
of tradition.
Aug. 20. Dull, with wet.
To Garrett’s, where I met Baillie, and as he is staying at Hampstead
we went home together.
i86
JOURNAL (1868)
Aug. 21. Dull morning, fine afternoon. The grass in Hyde Park is
gay milky green and as fresh as a bowling-green.
With Baillie to the National Portraits.' Beautiful Holbeins, one a
portrait of Lord Delaware ; another a portrait of a gentleman with
some beautiful conventionalised leafage behind — palmate leaves dis-
posed along an equally-waved stem ; a third Lord Surrey with a lady
(who holds a red pear) — small. Portraits of Keats and Shelley. But I
was turned out before I had seen all.
Aug. 22. Violent gale, with showers.
Aug. 23. Fine, cold, clear, and windy.
Aug. 24. Fresh and mostly fine — ^baggy cobweb clouds sometimes ,
overcasting the sky.
Walked to St. Alban’s^ with Baillie and back by train. The country '
is very green and set with good trees. The abbey is, I suppose, the least
injured in England. It stands high, with a great massive Norman
tower now empoverished in look by brown plaster, in which the tym-
pana of the highest window-arches — otherwise flush and blind: the
tympana I mean — are pierced oddly with three-cornered pigeon-
holes. The nave is very long, the roof, Third-Pointed, very low, in-
visible in fact, except at the end. The nave divides itself accidentally
at the points where the work of conversion of style began or ended :
thus, on the S. side all the Norman work is converted — in the clear-
story the western part to First, the eastern to Second Pointed; the
triforium I forget; the aisle windows are wide and well traceried but
small ; below these are the blind traceried arches of the inner side of
the cloisters (not now standing) — these last and some windows in the
antechapel to the east between the church and the lady-chapel are
beautiful and in the purest style — on the N. side the clearstory is in the
western part converted to First Pointed, the rest remains Norman ; the
rest I forget. None of this side has any Middle Pointed. The outside on
the whole is plain and, where Norman, barbarous. The great number
of the clearstory windows gives it character and beauty. Inside the
whitewash has been cleared and the carving is fresh to a degree,
the stone, which comes from not far off, being when covered from the
weather durable though soft. The conversion is very perceptible in-
side. In the depth of the round arches has been laid bare some simple
and broad diaper painting (chequers, stripes, etc) and on piers on the
western side of the pillars (above altars now gonoJrom their places)
frescos of the crucifixion — the same subject differently treated in each
— and, below, sometimes, other subjects. Note that one of the crosses
was a tree, as at Godshill, Isle of Wight. The deling with its old paint-
ing is complete from end to end ; that of the choir was Middle Pointed
and the effect of the slant stripes on the ribs of the groining, especially
where they met, was noticeable. The Third-Pointed altar-screen,
JOURNAL (1868) 187
especially behind, and the choir screen of the same character were
beautiful in design and proportion. So also are two chantries, one on
the N. side of the high altar, the other Duke Humphrey’s on the S.
behind. The abbot’s passage so called is remarkable for the curious
astragalus moulding of the interlaced wall-tracery. There is a little
Saxon work, like rude turning in carpentry, merely barbarous. The
building is mostly of tiles taken from the Roman walls of Verulam. It
is perhaps worth noticing that the little curled ends of some corbels
in the nave are freakishly turned each a different way.
Aug. 25. Fine ; cold wind.
Bridges came up and Rover^ bit him. After this we went down to
town together and talked in Hyde Park, And in Oxford Street^ saw
an Irish lad and woman and he had the national light tail coat, knee-
breeches, hat, and shillelagh.
Aug. 26. Dull.
Aug. 27. Fine.
Aug. 28. Dull.
Aug, 29. Fine, I think.
To sec Aunt Kate.^ We went over the building of Mr. West’s^ church,
by Street.^ Then to Croydon.
Aug. 30. Grey till past four ; then fine.
I saw the phenomenon of the sheepflock on the downs again from
Groham Hurst. It ran like the water-packets on a leaf— that collec-
tively, but a number of globules so filmed over that they would not
flush together is the exacter comparison : at a gap in the hedge they
were huddled and shaking open as they passed outwards they behaved
as the drops would do (or a handful of shot) in reaching the brow of a
rising and running over.
M. David’s erement, leprosy instructive.
Aug. 31. Fine; clouds delicately crisped.
Home. Saw Addis on the way and was introduced to Moncrieff
Smith^ (they call him F. Dominic).
Sept. I. Fine.
To Ely.^ Noticed on the way that the E. counties trees are upright
in character, not squat. The country more burnt than at Hampstead.
In the cathedral the great Norman tower is fine in effect ; otherwise
the Norman work (transitional) is not striking but some of the foliate
trailing on the capitals etc remains and has been repainted : it is in
fact the loss of this correction that madees the style heavy and bar-
barous. The First Pointed work has not much that is very good unless
the large and taper corbels in the choir, some of them ribbed with long
slant stems alternately leaved wound across them. The Flowing work
is the middle interest of the building. In this the lantern and three bays
of the choir eastwards, of Alan of Walsingham’s work (1322 sqq.), are
l88 JOURNAL (l868)
original, imaginative, and graceful, strict beauty being almost for-
bidden by the excess of the climacteric. The most striking points in this
are the open-traceried arches of the triforium in the choir ; the scroll
of open tracery between the choir and octagon arches, the flight or
spirit in which it is impossible not to feel ; the triplets of candleflame-
shaped canopies over brackets (now dismounted of their figures)
above the lower arches in cross or lesser sides of the octagon ; and most
of all perhaps the pierced hoods formed by a blunter arch springing
from the same points as the acuter one which encloses the great win-
dows in these same cross sides and so cut-
ting off the upper part of their tracery : the
quasi-fleurdelys tracery in these hoods 1$
very happy. The nave is not very interest-\
ing but it is skilfully and successfully de-
signed so as to concentrate and enclose the view up to the choir and
not through width and scattering in the side arches let it lose or escape.
The cieling of the nave painted by L’Estrange and after his death by
Parry is contributively speaking effective, and quiet and good in
colour, but the design is babyishly archaic. But even this suck-a-thumb
is not so bad as the modern brasses and the window with the queen
in her coronation robes and the bachelor and undergraduate and
butler and bedmaker. The transept roof is painted and long angels
with scarlet wings (original?) support the principals. The Lady-
chapel (1321 sqq.) has its walls bordered all round with an ogee-
canopied arcade of great richness, but the E. and W. windows are
strangely clumsy. — The all-powerfulness of instress in mode and the
immediateness of its effect are very remarkable.
Prior Crauden’s chapel (he was prior 1321- 1341) is beautiful in
proportion and even in detail (viz. the tracery of the E. Window : it is
that window with the border of tracery enclosing a smaller arch), but
I did not see it inside.
Sept. 2. Fine; at Hampstead dim.
Home. I had to start too early to see the cathedral again. The
galilee is full of good detail, the door seeming beautiful especially two
mouldings of the arch, looking like the bending down of leafy rods, but
scaffolding broke it up and hid it.
Sept. 3. Fine ; sunlight dim.
Sept. 4. Fine, somewhat dim, and hot.
Sept. 5. Fine, dim, and hot.
Sept. 6. The same.
Called with Baillie on Mrs. Cunliffe. Said goodbye to Grand-
mamma, Aunt Anne, and Uncle Charles.*
Sept. 7. Dim, fine, and very hot.
Horace Dugmore called in the morning and said goodbye.— In the
JOURNAL (1868-^) 189
evening when I had said goodbye at home I found my train did not
go for three quarters of an hour, so I walked to Victoria Road in the
meantime and Aunt Annie came back with me to the train.’ — ^Then
to the Novitiate, Roehampton.^
Sept. 8. Dull, thick, and with East wind.
Sept. 9. Fine.
Sept. 10. Fine but dim, as several days about this time.
Sept. 1 1 . And so this day.
Sept. 12. Dull.
Sept. 13. Fine, I think.
Sept. 14. Fine.
Sept. 15. Blighty. — One of these days there was a solar halo.
Remember the solar halo as an illustration.
The cedars at the bottom have their flakes so modulated from the
horizontal and so taking one another up all along the row that they
look like the swaling or give of water in a river when you look across it
and moonlight, say, picks out the different faces with light and dark.
Sept. 16. Blighty, turning to fine.
The Long Retreat^ began.
Sept. 1 7. Fine. — Chestnuts as bright as coals or spots of vermilion.
Sept. 18. Thunderstorm and rain but not all day.
Henceforth I keep no regular weather-journal but only notes.
Sept. 27. The (clouded) sky at dawn was, I noticed, quite purple.
There followed a thunderstorm : I saw one flash of lightning rose-
colour. Afterwards wind, rain, and graceful changing clouds.
Very early on some of these days the morning mist looked like water
quite still and clouded by milk or soda.
Oct. 2 1 . From a height in Richmond Park saw trees in the river flat
below inscaped in distinctly projected, crisp, and almost hard, rows
of loaves, their edges, especially at the top, being a little fixed and
shaped with shadow.
A fine Autumn. A Spanish chestnut and two elms in the grounds
seem to fill the air up with an equable clear ochre.
Nov. 4. Some brownish paste in the library formed in big crystals.
Dec, 6. At night the most violent gale I ever heard. One of our elms
snapped in half. Since then (Feb. 2. ’70) a grievous gap has come in
that place with falling and felling.
There were in November some days of frost but since then the
autumn has been very mild, with warm wet winds.
Dec. 9 — Honeysuckle out and catkins hanging in the thickets.
Jan. 4, ’69. We have had wind and rain, so that floods are out, but
in temperature the weather mild to an unusual degree. — ^The other
evening after a very bright day, the air rinsed quite clear, there was a
slash of glowing yolk-coloured sunset, — ^On the 1st frost all day (which
igo JOURNAL (1869)
Otherwise I do not remember for a long time), the air shining, but
with vapour, the dead leaves frilled, the Park grass* white with
hoarfrost mixed with purple shadow. — ^Today — another clear after-
noon with tender clouding after rain — one notices the crisp flat dark-
ness of the woods against the sun and the smoky bloom they have
opposite it. The trees budded and their sprays curled as if dressed for
spring.
Jan. 24. One day at the end of the year some heavy rain changed
into snow which melted as it touched the ground. Else there has been
no snow this winter. It was mild — sun and rain — till the 20th or 21st
I think, when there were for sunrises webs of rosy cloud and aftert
wards ranks of sharply edged crops or slices and all day delicatq
clouding : this red did not mean rain, but frost followed till the 25th,\
on which day it was giving ; the next it was gone. Since then mild '
weather, more and more remarkably mild, with sun, gales, and much
rain. Feb. 5 and 6 were almost hot. Daffodils have been in bloom for
some days. A weeping-willow here is all green. The elms have long
been in red bloom and yesterday (the nth) I saw small leaves on the
brushwood at their roots. Some primroses out. But a penance which I
was doing from Jan. 25 to July 25 prevented my seeing much that
half-year.
Feb. 22. The first snow of the year, but not lying. Hitherto the
weather has been as before.
Br. Goupe^ calls a basket a whiskeL — One day when we were gather-
ing stones and potsherds from the meadow Br. Wells^ said we were not
to do it at random but ‘in braids’.
March 14. About this time the weather raw and easterly, and some
snow but scarcely whitening the ground. Since then (24th) dark and
wet but milder.
March 27. Sun between snowstorms. In the afternoon the snow
whitened the trees and grass but not the roads.
April mild but dark till the loth, which was misty and sultry, the
mist rolling in here and there by fits and quite blotting out that part
of the landscape. The nth was a little lighter. The 12 th was hot and
fine, so were the 13th and 14th, both beginning, especially the 14th,
with fog or blight. On the 13th the cuckoo. Today (14th) lower parts
of the ebns out and the chestnut fans rising into shape.
Yesterday heard of Mrs. Plow’s death.
April 30.^ Br. Wm. Kerr® told me some days ago that in Australia(?)
the English trees introduced had driven out the natives, mostly diffe-
rent kinds of gum-trees, and that he had seen a park planted with
them, which were dying or dead. In particular our furze, which thrives
wonderfully and grows into great hedges, has driven the native
vegetation before it.
JOURNAL (1869) 191
A cold May, and in fact no such hot weather as we had in April till
the beginning of June and the haymaking, and then again cold winds.
Br. Wells calls a grindstone a grindlestone.
To lead north-country for to carry (a field of hay etc). Geet north-
country preterite of get : ‘he geet agate agoing’.
Trees sold ‘top and lop’ : Br. Rickaby* told me and suggests top is
the higher, outer, and lighter wood good for firing only, lop the stem
and bigger boughs when the rest has been lopped off used for timber.
Br. Wells calls white bryony^ Dead Creepers, because it kills what
it entwines.
Fr. Gasano's^ pronunciation of Latin instructive. (He is a Sicilian
but has spent many years in Spain.) Quod he calls c"od and quae hora
becomes almost c'ora — the u disappearing in a slight apostrophe;
Deus sounds like da~us or do-us^ the e being kept quite open ; meis is
almost a diphthong — like mace ; m in omnis and, if I am not mistaken,
final ms less strongly he gives the metallic nasal sound and the first
syllable of sanctus he calls as if it were French. — Feb. 4, ’70. Fr.
Goldie"* gives long e like short e merely lengthened or even opener
(the broad vowel between broad a and our closed a, the substitute for
e, i, or u followed by r). Fr. Morris® gives long u very full {Luca) ; he
emphasises the semi-consonant and the vowel before it where two
vowels meet — Pio becomes Pi-jo and tuam tu-vam (that is peeyo and
too‘Wam) — but in tuum the vowel is simply repeated. This morning I
noticed Fr. Sangalli saying mass give the ms very slightly or bluntly.
The sunset June 20 was wine-coloured, with pencillings of purple,
and next day there was rain.
June 27. The weather turned warm again two or three days ago
and today is wanner still. Before that there had been cold, rain, and
gloom.
Br. Sidgreaves^ has heard the high ridges of a field called folds and
the hollow between the drip,
June 28. The cuckoo has changed his tune : the two notes can scarcely
be told apart, that is their pitch is almost the same.
July 4. Up till the 2nd the weather gloomy. The 3rd was thick in
the morning but cleared to a hazy sunlight and warm (Br. Gartlan"^
and I in Wimbledon camp).® Today is bright and hot.
July 8 or 9. Heard the cuckoo — very tuneless and wild sound.
In July some very hot days. August mild, damp, and autumnal,
till near the end, when there was great heat. September began with
frost and chill.
On the 8th after the Retreat the Juniors took their vows. Shortly
after Fr. Fitzsimon^ left us suddenly and without a*® Goodbye and Fr.
Gallwey” took his place. Br. Shoolbred and Br. Anselm Gillet** had
left the noviceship from ill health.
iga JOURNAL (1869)
Near the equinox a very great gale. It wrecked the fine Spanish
oak* at the head of the path down the meadow, broke the mulberry
tree near the farm^ by the ground, and struck half of the cedar in St.
Aloysius’ walk^ into the rye-grass field. Long unending races of leaves
came leaping and raging along the meadow. It frightened one to go
among the trees.
We were gathering mulberries in that tree a little before. The
hangers of smaller but barky branches, seen black against the leaves
from within, look like ship-tackle. When you climbed to the top of the
tree and came out the sky looked as if you could touch it and it was as
if you were in a world made up of these three colours, the green of the
leaves lit through by the sun, the blue of the sky, and the grey blaze
of their upper sides against it.
A few days before Sept. 25 a fine sunrise seen from no. i , the up-
stairs bedroom — : long skeins of meshy grey cloud a little ruddled
underneath, not quite level but aslant, rising from left to right, and
down on the left one more solid balk or bolt than the rest with a high-
blown crest of flix or fleece above it.
About the same time a fine sunset, which, looked at also from the
upstairs windows, cut out the yews all down the approach to the
house in bright flat pieces like wings in a theatre (as once before I
noticed at sunrise from Magdalen tower), each shaped by its own
sharp>-cut shadow falling on the yew-tree next behind it, since they
run E. and W. Westward under the sun the heights and groves in
Eichmond Park looked like dusty velvet being all flushed into a piece
by the thick-hoary golden light which slanted towards me over them.
Also that autumn my eye was suddenly caught by the scaping of
the leaves that grow in allies and avenues : I noticed it first in an elm
and then in limes. They fall from the two sides of the branch or spray
in two marked planes which meet at a right angle or more. This
comes from the endeavour to catch the light on either side, which falls
left and right but not all round. Thus each branch is thatched with a
double blade or eave of leaves which run up to a coping like the roof-
crest all along its stem, and seen from some places these lie across one
another all in chequers and X’s.
I was at Kew Gardens somewhere about that time. I have these
notes : — the leaves of the Victoria region are on the under side deeply
groined by red bladed ribs and these again fretted across; — in the
same house the nymphoea scutifolia^ lying on the water like a Maltese
cross and the Egyptian sacred bean,^ the leaves dimpled in the middle
and beautifully wimpled at the edge, the flower a water lily with the
petals flagging and falling apart, edged with purplish red, the seed-
vessels truncated urns; — several kinds of hibiscus^ one with a most
vivid scarlet-carnation flower.
JOURNAL (1869) *93
Grossing the Common Oct. 13 a fine sunset — great gold field;
along the earth-line a train of dark clouds of knopped or clustery
make pitching over at the top the way they were going; higher a
slanting race of tapered or else coiling fish-like flakes such as are often
seen ; the gold etched with brighter gold and shaped in sandy pieces
and looped and waved all in waterings : what more I have forgotten.
Nov. 17 there was a very damp fog, and the trees being drenched
with wet a sharp frost which followed in the night candied them with
ice. Before the sun, which melted the ice and dried the trees altogether,
had struck it I looked at the cedar on the left of the portico and found
every needle edged with a blade of ice made of fine horizontal bars
or spars all pointing one way, N. and S. (if I am not mistaken, all on
the S. side of the needles). There was also an
edging of frost on the clematis up the railings
and, what is very striking, the little bars of
which the blades or pieces of frost were made
up though they lay all along the hairy threads
with which the seed-vessels of the clematis are
set did not turn with their turnings but lay all
in parallels N. and S.
Nov. 20 — Two large planets, the one an even-
ing star, the other distant today from it as in the
diagram, both nearly of an altitude and of one
size — such counterparts that each seems the re-
flection of the other in opposite bays of the sky^
and not two distinct things.
Dec. 23 — ^Yesterday morning I was dreaming I was with George
Consciousness of Simeox^ and was considering how to get away in time
dreaming to ring the bells here which as porter I had to ring (I
was made porter on the 1 2th of the month, I think, and had the ofiice
for a little more than two months). I knew that I was dreaming and
made this odd dilemma in my dream: either I am not really with
Simcox and then it does not matter what I do, or if I am, waking will
carry me off without my needing to do anything — and with this I was
satisfied.
Another day in the evening after Litanies as Father Rector was
giving the points for meditation I shut my eyes, being very tired, and
without ceasing to hear him began to dream. The dream-images
seemed to rise and overlie those which belonged to what he was saying
and I saw one of the Apostles — he was talking about the Apostles — as
if pressed against by a piece of wood about half a yard long and a
few inches across, like a long box with two of the long sides cut off.
Lven then I could not understand what the piece of wood did en-
cumbering the apostle. Now this piece of wood I had often seen in an
B 6028
o
jg^ JOURNAL (l86g)
outhouse and being that week ‘A Secretis’' I had seen it longer to-
gcther and had been that day wondering what it was; in reality it is
used to hold a Jitde heap of cinders against the waJJ which keep from
the frost a piece of earthenware pipe which there comes out and goes
in again making a projection in the wall. It is just the things which
produce dead impressions, which the mind, either because you cannot
make them out or because they were perceived across other more
engrossing thoughts, has made nothing of and brought into no scaping,
that force themselves up in this way afterwards. — It seems true what
Ed. Bond said, that you can trace your dreams to something or other
in your waking life, especially of things that have been lately — I wouldj
not say this universally however. But the connection may be capricious,
almost punning ; I remember in one case to have detected a real pun
but what it was I forget.
The dream-images also appear to have little or no projection, to be
flat like pictures, and often one seems to be holding one’s eyes close to
them — I mean even while dreaming. This probably due to a difference
still felt between images brought by ordinary use of function of sight
and those seen as these are ‘between our eyelids and our eyes’ —
though this is not all, for we also sec the colours, brothy motes and
figures, and at all events the positive darkness, made by the shut eyelids
by the ordinary use of the function of sight, but these images are
brought upon that dark field, as I imagine, by a reverse action of the
visual nerves (the same will hold of the sounds, sensations of touch,
etc of dreams) — or by other nerves, but it seems reasonable to suppose
impressions of sight belong to the organ of sight — and once lodged
there are stalled by the mind like other images : only you cannot make
them at will when awake, for the veiy effort and advertence would be
destructive to them, since the eye in its sane waking office kens only
impressions brought from without, that is to say either from beyond
the body or from the body itself produced upon the dark field of the
eyelids. Nevertheless I have seen in favourable moments the images
brought from within lying there like others : if I am not mistaken they
are coarser and simpler and something like the spectra made by bright
things looked hard at. I can therefore believewhat Chandler told E.B.,
that at waking he could see — which is a step beyond seeing them on
the field of the eyelids — the images of his dream upon the wall of his
room.
It is not in reality harder for the mind to have ken at the same time
of what the eye sees and also of the belonging images of our thoughts
without ever or almost ever confounding them than it is for it to
multiply the pictures brought by the two eyes into one without ever
or almost ever separating them (March 23, ’70).
One day towards the end of that year, a holiday on which I went
*95
JOURNAL (1869-70)
to Fr. Rawes’ church' and then to Kensal Green, I passed a music
shop somewhere in the outskirts of Notdng Hill and in the window my
eye was caught by ‘the Disraeli Walz’. Some days before I had been
trying unsuccessfully to recall Mr. Maclaren’s Debutante Walz (in
reality I think it is a polka). A few steps further on I found myself
humming it.
One day in the Long Retreat (which ended on Xmas Day) they
were reading in the refectory Sister Emmerich’s^ account of the Agony
in the Garden and I suddenly began to cry and sob and could not stop.
I put it down for this reason, that if I had been asked a minute before-
hand I should have said that nothing of the sort was going to happen
and even when it did I stood in a manner wondering at myself not
seeing in my reason the traces of an adequate cause for such strong
emotion — the traces of it I say because of course the cause in itself is
adequate for the sorrow of a lifetime. I remember much the same thing
on Maundy Thursday when the presanctified Host was carried to the
sacristy. But neither the weight nor the stress of sorrow, that is to say
of the thing which should cause sorrow, by themselves move us or
bring the tears as a sharp knife does not cut for being pressed as long
as it is pressed without any shaking of the hand but there is always
one touch, something striking sideways and unlooked for, which in
both cases undoes resistance and pierces, and this may be so delicate
that the pathos seems to have gone directly to the body and cleared
the understanding in its passage. On the other hand the pathetic
touch by itself, as in dramatic pathos, will only draw slight tears if its
matter is not important or not of import to us, the strong emotion
coming from a force which was gathered before it was discharged : in
ibis way a knife may pierce the flesh which it had happened only to
graze and only grazing will go no deeper.
The winter was called severe. There were three spells of frost with
skating, the third beginning on Feb, 9. No snow to speak of till that
day. Some days before Feb. 7 I saw catkins hanging. On the gth there
was snow but not lying on the roads. On the grass it became a crust
lifted on the heads of the blades. As we went down a field near Caesar’s
Gamp^ I noticed it before me squalentem, coat below coat, sketched in
intersecting edges bearing ‘idiom’, all down the slope: — I have no
other word yet for that which takes the eye or mind in a bold hand or
effective sketching or in marked features or again in graphic writing,
which not being beauty nor true inscape yet gives interest and makes
ugliness even better than meaninglessness. — On the Common the snow
was channelled all in parallels by the sharp driving wind and upon the
tufts of grass (where by the dark colour shewing through it looked
greyish) it came to turret-like clusters or like broken shafts of basalt. — In
the Park in the afternoon the wind was driving little clouds of snow-dust
196 JOURNAL (1870)
which caught the sun as they rose and delightfully took the eyes:
flying up the slopes they looked like breaks of sunlight fallen through
ravelled cloud upon the hills and again like deep flossy velvet blown
to the root by breath which passed all along. Nearer at hand along the
road it was gliding over the ground in white wisps that between
trailing and flying shifted and wimpled like so many silvery worms to
and from one another.
The squirrel was about in our trees all the winter. For instance
about Jan. 2 I often saw it.
Feb. 12 — ^The slate slabs of the urinals even are frosted in graceful
sprays. [Dec. 31, 1870 . 1 have noticed it here also at the seminary; it
comes when they have been washed.]*
Feb. 1 9 — ^The frost broke up. (That day also I ceased to be Porter.)
Feb. 22 — Frost again, not for long. 1
March 12 — A fine sunset: the higher sky dead clear blue bridged
by a broad slant causeway rising from right to left of wisped or grass
cloud, the wisps lying across ; the sundown yellow, moist with light but
ending at the top in a foam of delicate white pearling and spotted with
big tufts of cloud in colour russet between brown and purple but
edged with brassy light. But what I note it all for is this : before I had
always taken the sunset and the sun as quite out of gauge with each
other, as indeed physically they are, for the eye after looking at the
sun is blunted to everything else and if you look at the rest of the
sunset you must cover the sun, but today I inscaped them together and
made the sun the true eye and ace of the whole, as it is. It was all
active and tossing out light and started as strongly forward from the
field as a long stone or a boss in the knop of the chalice-stem ; it is
indeed by stalling it so that it falls into scape with the sky.
The next morning a heavy fall of snow. It tufted and toed the firs
and yews and went on to load them till they were taxed beyond their
spring. The limes, ehns, and Turkey-oaks it crisped beautifully as with
young leaf. Looking at the elms from underneath you saw every wave
in every twig (become by this the wire-like stem to a finger of snow)
and to the hangers and flying sprays it restored, to the eye, the in-
scapes they had lost. They were beautifully brought out against the
sky, which was on one side dead blue, on the other washed with gold.
At sunset the sun a crimson fireball, above one or two knots of rosy
cloud middled with purple. After that, frost for Two days.
March 19 — St. Joseph’s church opened.^
March 26 — Snowstorm in morning.
In the first week^ of April spring began.
April 4 — In taking off my jersey of knitted wool in the dark with an
accidental stroke of my finger down the stuff I drew a flash of electric
light. This explains the crackling I had often heard.
JOURNAL (1870) 197
On March 22 I asked the Brentford boys about a ghost story they
had told me before that. At Norris’s market gardens by
Sion Lane there is a place where according to tradition
two men (and some boys, I think) were ploughing with four horses :
in bringing the plough round at the headland they fell into a covered
well which they did not see and were killed. And now if you lean your
ear against a wall at the place you can hear the horses going and the
men singing at their work. — ^There are other ghosts belonging to Sion
House. E.g.* there is an image (of our Lady, if I remember) in a
stained window which every year is broken by an unseen hand and
invisibly mended again.
I was with the laybrothers that week. Br. Fitzgerald capped this
Irish fairy Story. At Singland, Co. Limerick, where he comes from,
stories is a spring hot in winter, perishingly cold in summer, a
sort of Hippocrene, called Torgha Shesheree (?), that is the Spring
of the Pair, from a pair of plough-horses which were swallowed up
there, the water springing up at the place. (But as the story was told
me first and as it is in my notes, they were taken there to drink, the
earth opened and swallowed them, and then the water sprang up at
the spot : perhaps the bull is from some confusion in my account. —
His account, given since, is that the plough-horses were taken there to
drink, were swallowed up, and the spring much greater since : its
miraculous heat and cold, I suppose, dates from then. It is ab — [here
I broke off months ago and cannot fill up : I must have been going to
give the size or depth]. There are in it two broad stones, in one of
which is the hoof-mark of one of the horses, and you may put your
arm to the shoulder down it and feel no bottom.
He also knew a crazy woman who had dealing with ‘the good
people’. She would go out and bring back her apron full of straws,
which appears to have had something to do with them. Her brother
to stop her gave her a beating and the poor thing being sore with the
blow^ the fairies missed her at the accustomed time. But they paid the
brother for it, for they pulled him out of bed and gave him such a
threshing he could not go out for a week.
Br. Byrne^ : — Hockey and football are much played in Ireland and
the great day is Shrove Tuesday, on which the ‘merits’ are awarded.
A player v/ho had greatly distinguished himself at football was that
day going home when in a lonely field a ball came rolling to his feet ;
he kicked it, it was kicked back, and soon he found himself playing
the game with a fieldfull of fairies and in a place which was strange to
him. The fairies would not let him go but they did their best to amuse
they danced and wrestled before him so that he should never
yant for entertainment, but they could not get him to eat, for know-
ing that if he eat what they gave him they would have a claim upon
198
JOURNAL (1870)
him he preferred to starve and they for fear he should die on their hands
at Izist put him on the right road home. On reaching home he found
a pot of stirabout on the fire and had only had time to taste a ladlefull
when the fairies were in upon him and began to drag him away again.
He caught hold of the doorpost and called on the saints but when he
came to our Lady’s name they let go and troubled him no more.
Br. Byrne even gives them on the authority of some priest a theo-
logical standing ground. They are half-fallen angels who gave a part-
consent to Lucifer’s sin and are in probation till the last day here on
earth. Their behaviour towards men comes from envy. The following
story puts them in quite a devilish light. — priest one night waj^
driving out upon a sick call when in the dark his whip was snatched
from his hand. His servant got down to look for it and found himself
in the midst of the fairies. ‘Father’ he said, ‘they’re as thick as tragh^\
neans\ (Traghneans, however spelt, are the heads of flowering grass '
or of some flowering grass, often used as pipe-cleaners). The priest
now began to read (say repeat, it being a dark night) some sentences
from his breviary and the whip was instantly put into his hands.
‘Forths’ (old camps etc) belong to witches and fairies and it is very
dangerous to cut or take anything from them : Br. Fitzgerald has seen
a man who had gone to cut a stick in one and come back with his
finger hanging off. A man was one day ploughing in a field by one of
these forths and as he came up the furrow he heard a clatter of plates
and knives and forks by which he guessed that the fairies were at
dinner. This was enough to make him hungry and he wished for some
of that dinner that they were eating. They heard him and as the plough
came by again he saw a plate with knife and fork and a good dinner
ready laid on the headland at the very spot where he had uttered the
wish. But when he saw it he repented, for he had heard that if you
eat what the fairies give you you will belong to them for good and he
would not touch the food. But in an instant before he turned away one
of his eyes was thrust out and lay on the plate before him and he was a
one-eyed man for life because he had shuffled in dealing with the fairies.
Br. Slattery knew of a woman who had buried three children, one
unbaptised, at whose wake three lights or ‘candles’ were seen in the
yard (the grave-yard?), one weaker than the two others: these were
her children’s souls come to accompany hers. These ‘candles’ seem to
be the recognised form of apparition for departed souls.
Later Br. Yates* gave me the following Irish expressions— -7 wouldnH
Irish p^t it past you or 1 wouldn't doubt you — It is just what I should
phrases expect of you — That you mightn't^ expression of disapproval —
Mend you or Sorrow mend you or 0 then the sorrow nwndyou — Serves you
right — Soak it almost = Lump it — I haven't got it = I don’t know it—
Crackawly = simpleton — Johnny Magoreys / seeds of the hip — (from
i
*99
JOURNAL (1870)
Br. Considine’) Boyo\ Lodo* = Boy and a half etc From Bn Wood —
li puis me to th pin of my collar it is all I can do to bear — As weak as a
bee's knee
Spring began in the first week of April^
A day or two before May 14 the burnished or embossed forehead of
sky over the sundown ; of beautiful ‘clear’
Perhaps^ the zodiacal light
May 14 Wych-elms not out till today. — ^The chestnuts down by St.
Joseph’s were a beautiful sight : each spike had its own pitch, yet each
followed in its place in the sweep with a deeper and deeper stoop.
When the wind tossed them they plunged and crossed one another
without losing their inscape. (Observe that motion multiplies inscape
only when inscape is discovered, otherwise it disfigures)
May 18 — Great brilliancy and projection: the eye seemed to fall
perpendicular from level to level along our trees, the nearer and further
Park ; all things hitting the sense with double but direct instrcss
Devotion to our Lady not only in particular but under particular
attributes — There is this in Spain to our Lady of Mt. Carmel. Br,
Gordon'* heard a man blaspheming in the street (I think in Seville) :
when he came to her name he said ‘Against her I have nothing to say :
she is not like the rest ; she knows what she is about’
I was noticing his pronunciation when he read aloud. In words like
Ribadeneira^ he gives to the ei the value of both letters, making the true
diphthong between e and i. He flattens the final consonants, as led
for let. The soft g, as in raging, is very noticeable : it is a Greek £ I
think, almost = dz
This was later. One day when the bluebells were in bloom I wrote
the following. I do not think I have ever seen anything more beautiful
than the bluebell I have been looking at. I know the beauty of our
Lord by it. It[s inscape]^ is [mixed of ] strength and grace, like an ash
[tree]. The head is strongly drawn over [backwards] and arched down
like a cutwater [drawing itself back from the line of the keel]. The lines
of the bells strike and overlie this, rayed but not symmetrically, some
lie parallel. They look steely against [the] paper, the shades lying
between the bells and behind the cockled petal-ends and nursing up
the precision of their distinctness, the petal-ends themselves being
delicately li^. Then there is the straightness of the trumpets in the bells
softened by the slight entasis and [by] the square splay of the mouth.
One bell, the lowest, some way detached and carried on a longer
footstalk, touched out with the tips of the petals an oval / not like the
rest in a plane perpendicular of the axis of the bell but a
little atilt, and so with [the] square-in-rounding turns of
the petals . . . There is a little drawing of this detached
bell. It looks square-cut in the original
200 JOURNAL (1870)
Drought up to Corpus Xti (June 16), on evening of which day
thunderstorm
Aug. 25 — A Captain Newman living in the Scilly Isles told my
father he had known an old lady (she is now some years dead) who
could speak Cornish. Her name was Mrs. Pendraith. I believe he
knew of no other
This skeleton inscape of a spray-end of ash I broke at Wimbledon
that summer is worth noticing for the
suggested globe : it is leaf on the left
and keys on the right
Sept. 8 — I took my vows'
Sept. 9 — To Stonyhurst to th^
seminary^ \
Sept. 24 — First saw the Northern
Lights. My eye was caught by beams
of light and dark very like the crown
of horny rays the sun makes behind
a cloud. At first I thought of silvery
cloud until I saw that these were
more luminous and did not dim the
clearness of the stars in the Bear. They rose slightly radiating thrown
out from the earthline. Then I saw soft pulses of light one after
another rise and pass upwards arched in shape but waveringly
and with the arch broken. They seemed to float, not following the
warp of the sphere as falling stars look to do but free though con-
centrical with it. This busy working of nature wholly independent of
the earth and seeming to go on in a strain of time not reckoned by our
reckoning of days and years but simpler and as if correcting the pre-
occupation of the world by being preoccupied with and appealing to
and dated to the day of judgment was like a new witness to God and
filled me with delightful fear
Oct. 20 — Laus Deo — the river today and yesterday. Yesterday it
was a sallow glassy gold at Hodder Roughs and by watching hard the
banks began to sail upstream, the scaping unfolded, the river was all
in tumult but not running, only the lateral motions were perceived,
and the curls of froth where the waves overlap shaped and turned
easily and idly. — I meant to have written more. — Today the river was
wild, very full, glossy brown with mud, furrowed in permanent bil-
lows through which from head to head the water swung with a great
down and up again. These heads were scalped with rags of jumping
foam. But at the Roughs the sight was the burly water-backs which
heave after heave kept tumbling up from the broken foam and their
plump heap turning open in ropes of velvet
Oct. 25 — A little before 7 in the evening a wonderful Aurora, the
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JOURNAL (1870)
same that was seen at Rome (shortly after its seizure by the Italian
government) and taken as a sign of God’s anger. It gathered a little
below the zenith, to the S.E. I think — a knot or crown, not a true
circle, of dull blood-coloured horns and dropped long red beams down
the sky on every side, each impaling its lot of stars. An hour or so
later its colour was gone but there was still a pale crown in the same
place: the skies were then clear and ashy and fresh with stars and
there were flashes of or like sheet-lightning. The day had been very
bright and clear, distances smart, herds of towering pillow clouds, one
great stack in particular over Pendle was knoppled all over in fine
snowy tufts and pencilled with bloom-shadow of the greatest delicacy.
In the sunset all was big and there was a world of swollen cloud
holding the yellow-rose light like a lamp while a few sad milky blue
slips passed below it. At night violent hailstorms and hail again next
day, and a solar halo. Worth noticing too perhaps the water-runs
were then mulled and less beautiful than usual
Dec. 1 9 or thereabouts a very fine sunrise : the higher cloud was
like seams of red candle-wax
On April 29^ or thereabouts at sunset in the same quarter of the sky
I saw, as far as I could remember it, almost the very same scape, the
same colour and so on, down to a wavy wisp or rather seam above
the rest — and this made by the sun shining from the West instead of
the East. It was not so brilliant though
The winter was long and hard. I made many observations on
freezing. For instance the crystals in mud. — Hailstones are shaped
like the cut of diamonds called brilliants. — I found one morning the
ground in one corner of the garden^ full of small pieces of potsherd
from which there rose up (and not dropped off) long icicles carried
on in some way each like a forepitch of the shape of the piece of pot-
sherd it grew on, like a tooth to its root for instance, and most of them
bended over and curled like so many tusks or horns or / best of all
and what they looked likest when they first caught my eye / the first
soft root-spurs thrown out from a sprouting chestnut. This bending of
the icicle seemed so far as I could see not merely a resultant, where the
smaller spars of which it was made were still straight, but to have
flushed them too. — The same day and others the garden mould very
crisp and meshed over with a lace-work of needles leaving (they
seemed) three-cornered openings : it looked greyish and like a coat of
gum on wood. Also the smaller crumbs and clods were lifted fairly
up from the ground on upright ice-pillars, whether they had dropped
these from themselves or drawn them from the soil : it was like a little
Stonehenge — Looking down into the thick ice of our pond I found the
imprisoned air-bubbles nothing at random but starting from centres
and in particular one most beautifully regular white brush of them,
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each spur of it a curving string of beaded and diminishing bubbles —
The pond, I suppose from over pressure when it was less firm, was
mapped with a puzzle of very slight clefts branched with little sprigs :
the pieces were odd-shaped and sized — though a square angular
scaping could be just made out in the outline but the cracks ran deep
through the ice markedly in planes and always the planes of the cleft
on the surface. They remained and in the end the ice broke up in just
these pieces
Some events from the end of ’69
In November Grisi* died
Dec. 8 — ^Vatican Council opened
Dec. 17 — ^Fasting girP died : her parents were afterwards convicted
of manslaughter
Jan. 10, ’70 — ^Victor Noir killed by Prince Pierre Bonaparte^
Feb. 23 — Lucas^ forger of the Newton and Pascal letters sentenced
to 2 yrs. imprisonment
The same month a negro first sat in Congress (for Mississippi),
Virginia was readmitted to the Union, and the Duke of Richmond
became Conservative leader in the House of Lords
In March Montalembert must have died [On the i5th]5
April 1 1 — Capture of the English ‘Lords’^ by the Greek Brigands.
Four of them (Herbert, Vyner, Lloyd, and the Count de Boyl) were
murdered on the 23
April 25’' — Maclise^ died
May 21 — Sir John Simeon’ died
In May three successes of the American yacht Sappho^^
June I Dr. Grant died"
Dickens must have died in June (on the 9th)
June 25 — Qu. Isabella resigns in favour of her son the Prince of
Asturias
July 15 — War declared between France and Prussia. But the Arch-
bishop says the Definition of the Infallibility was on the i8th and the
declaration of war next day
July 22 — ^Hon. Francis Charteris" Lord Elcho’s son killed by his
own pistol
Aug. 4--Battle of Weissemburg (Crown PrinceJ
Aug. 8 — ^Worth (Crown P. and Macmahon) and Speichern (Prince
Frederick Charles and Gen. Froissart)
Aug. 9 — ^The Ollivier cabinet resigns, Gen. Montauban forms a
new one
Aug. 14 — Nancy occupied. — Mazzini arrested by the Italian govern-
ment and sent to Gaeta
JOURNAL (1870-1) 1103
Aug. 16 — Gravelotte
Aug. 18 — ^Vionville
Aug. 19 — Minister of Foreign Affairs (Viconti-Venosta?) said to
the house ‘The obligation of not attacking the frontiers of the Papal
states and of not allowing them to be attacked remains in force. And,
Gentlemen, if this obligation were not confirmed by treaty, it would
come under the obligations provided in the common law of nations
and in the political relations of states’
Aug. 20 — Camp of Chalons abandoned
Aug. 30 — French defeated at Carignan and Beaumont. — Bazaine
tries to get out of Metz. — Burning of Bazeilles
Sept. 2 — Surrender of Sedan
Sept. 4 — Emperor deposed. Flight of Empress
Sept. 7 — ^The Captain foundered*
Sept. 9 — Laon surrenders. The explosion
Sept. 18 — Government and foreign ambassadors established at
Tours
Sept. 1 9 — Paris completely invested
Sept. 20 — Storming of Porta Pia and capture of Rome. — Herr
Jacoby imprisoned for suggesting that French provinces should not be
annexed against the wishes of the people
Sept. 23 — Toul surrenders
Oct. 7 — Gambetta’s Balloon escape. — Roman plebiscite
Oct. 1 1 — Orleans taken
Oct. 16 — Garibaldi appointed to the Vosges
Oct. 24 — In Whitaker’s Almanack, from which most of these notes
are, I find this put down for the day of the great Aurora : I have it on
the 25th^
Oct. 26 — Metz surrenders with 173,000 men
Nov. 9, 10 — ^Aurelles de Paladine’s victory — Orleans retaken. —
Here Whitaker’s Almanack ends. For further notes later
Mgr. Eyre and Mr. Healy of Isleworth died during the winter, Mr.
Maclauren also, Br. Bceuve on March 3 the feast of the Lance and
Nails, De Morgan^ died in March
The spring weather began with March about
1 have been watching clouds this spring and evaporation, for in-
stance over our Lenten chocolate. It seems as if the heat by aestus,
throes/ one after another threw films of vapour off as boiling water
throws off steam under films of water, that is bubbles. One query
then is whether these films contain gas or no. The film seems to be set
with tiny bubbles which gives it a grey and grained look. By throes^
perhaps which represent the moments at which the evener stress of
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JOURNAL (1871)
the heat has overcome the resistance of the surface or of the whole
liquid. It would be reasonable then to consider the films as the shell
of gas-bubbles and the grain on them as a network of bubbles con-
densed by the air as the gas rises. — Candle smoke goes by just the same
laws, the visible film being here of unconsumed substance, not hollow
bubbles The throes can be perceived/ like the thrills of a candle in the
socket : this is precisely to reech^ whence reek. They may by a breath of
air be laid again and then shew like grey wisps on the surface — which
shews their part-solidity. They seem to be drawn off the chocolate as
you might take up a napkin between your fingers that covered some-
thing, not so much from here or there as from the whole surface at on^
reech, so that the film is perceived at the edges and makes in fact
collar or ring just within the walls all round the cup ; it then draws\
together in a cowl like a candleflame but not regularly or without a '
break : the question is why. Perhaps in perfect stillness it would not
but the air breathing it aside entangles it with itself. The films seems
to rise not quite simultaneously but to peel off as if you were tearing
cloth ; then giving an end forward like the corner of a handkerchief
and beginning to coil it makes a long wavy hose you may sometimes
look down, as a ribbon or a carpenter’s shaving may be made to do.
Higher running into frets and silvering in the sun with the endless
coiling, the soft bound of the general motion and yet the side lurches
sliding into some particular pitch it makes a baffling and charming
sight. — Clouds however solid they may look far off arc I think wholly
made of film in the sheet or in the tuft. The bright woolpacks that pelt
before a gale in a clear sky are in the tuft and you can see the wind
unravelling and rending them finer than any sponge till within one
easy reach overhead they are morselled to nothing and consumed — it
depends of course on their size. Possibly each tuft in forepitch or in
origin is quained and a crystal. Rarer and wilder packs have some-
times film in the sheet, which may be caught as it turns on the edge of
the cloud like an outlying eyebrow. The one
in which I saw this was in a north-east wind,
solid but not crisp, white like the white of
egg, and bloated-looking
What you look hard at seems to look hard at you, hence the true
and the false instress of nature. One day early in March when long
streamers were rising from over Kemble End one large flake loop-
shaped, not a streamer but belonging to the string, moving too slowly
to be seen, seemed to cap and fill the zenith with a white shire of
cloud. I looked long up at it till the tall height and the beauty of the
scaping — regularly curled knots springing if I remember from fine
stems, like foliation in wood or stone — had strongly grown on me. It
changed beautiful changes, growing more into ribs and one stretch of
JOURNAL (1871) 205
running into branching like coral. Unless you refresh the mind from
time to time you cannot always remember or believe how deep the
inscape in things is
March 14 — Bright morning, pied skies, hail. In the afternoon the
wind was from the N., very cold ; long bows of soft grey cloud straining
the whole heaven but spanning the skyline with a slow entasis which
left a strip of cold porcelain blue. The long ribs or girders were as
rollers/ across the wind, not in it, but across them there lay fine grass-
ends, sided off down the perspective, as if locks of vapour blown free
from the main ribs down the wind. Next day and next snow. Then in
walking I saw the water-runs in the sand of unusual delicacy and the
broken blots of snow in the dead bents of the hedge-banks I could find
a square scaping in which helped the eye over another hitherto dis-
ordered field of things. (And if you look well at big pack-clouds over-
head you will soon find a strong large quaining and squaring in them
which makes each pack impressive and whole.) Pendle was beautiful :
the face of snow on it and the tracks or gullies which streaked and parted
this well shaped out its roundness and boss and marked the slow tune
of its long shoulder. One time it lay above a near hill of green field
which, with the lands in it lined and plated by snow, was striped like
a zebra : this Pendle repeated finer and dimmer
March 1 7 — In the morning clouds chalky and milk-coloured, with
remarkable oyster-shell moulding. (From a rough pencil sketch)
Between eleven and twelve at night a shock of earthquake
End of March and beginning of April — ^This is the time to study
inscape in the spraying of trees, for the swelling buds carry them to a
pitch which the eye could not else gather — for out of much much more,
out of little not much, out of nothing nothing : in these sprays at all
events there is a new world of inscape. The male ashes are very boldly
jotted with the heads of the bloom which tuft the outer ends of the
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JOURNAL (1871)
branches. The staff of each of these branches is closely knotted with
the places where buds are or have been, so that it is something like a
finger which has been tied up with string and keeps the marks. They
are in knops of a pair, one on each side, and the knops are set alter-
nately, at crosses with the knops above and the knops below, the bud
of course is a short smoke-black pointed nail-head or beak pieced of
four lids or nippers. Below it, like the hollow below the eye or the
piece between the knuckle and the root of the nail, is a half-moon-
shaped sill as if once chipped from the wood and this gives the twig its
quaining in the outline. When the bud breaks at first it shews a heap
of fruity purplish anthers looking something like unripe elder-berrie$i
but these push open into richly-branched tree-pieces coloured bxxft
and brown, shaking out loads of pollen, and drawing the tuft as a \
whole into peaked quains — mainly four, I think, two bigger and two
smaller
The bushes in the woods and hedgerows are spanned over and
twisted upon by the woody cords of the honeysuckle : the cloves of leaf
these bear are some purple, some grave green. But the young green of
the briars is gay and neat and smooth as if cut in ivory. — One bay or
hollow of Hodder Wood is curled all over with bright green garlic
The sy comores are quite the earliest trees out : some have been fully
out some days (April 15). The behaviour of the opening clusters is
very beautiful and when fully opened not the single leaves but the
whole tuft is strongly templed like the belly of a drum or bell
The half-opened wood-sorrel leaves, the centre or spring of the
leaflets rising foremost and the leaflets dropping back like ears leaving
straight-chipped clefts between them, look like some green lettering
and cut as sharp as dice
The white violets* are broader and smell ; the blue, scentless and
finer made, have a sharper whelking and a more winged recoil in the
leaves
Take a few primroses in a glass and the instress of — brilliancy, sort
of starriness : I have not the right word — so simple a flower gives is
remarkable. It is, I think, due to the strong swell given by the deeper
yellow middle
‘The young lambs bound As to the tabour’s sound’.
They toss and toss : it is as if it were the earth that flung them, not
themselves. It is the pitch of graceful agility when weT;hink that. — April
16 — Sometimes they rest a little space on the hind legs and the fore-
feet drop curling in on the breast, not so liquidly as we see it in the
limbs of foals though
Bright afternoon; clear distances; Pendle dappled with tufted
shadow ; west wind ; interesting clouding, flat and lying in the warp
of the heaven but the pieces with rounded outline and dolphin-backs
JOURNAL (1871) ao7
shewing in places and all was at odds and at Z’s, one piece with
another. Later beautifully delicate crisping. Later rippling as in the
drawing^
April 21 — ^We have had other such afternoons, one today — the sky
a beautiful grained blue, silky lingering clouds in flat-bottomed
loaves, others a little browner in ropes or in burly-shouldered ridges
swanny and lustrous, more in the Zenith stray packs of a sort of violet
paleness. White-rose cloud formed fast, not in the same density — some
caked and swimming in a wan whiteness, the rest soaked with the blue
and like the leaf of a flower held against the light and diapered out by
the worm or veining of deeper blue between rosette and rosette.
Later/ moulding, which brought rain : in perspective it was vaulted
in very regular ribs with fretting between: but these are not ribs;
they are a ‘wracking’ install made of these two realities — the frets,
which are scarves of rotten cloud bellying upwards and drooping at
their ends and shaded darkest at the brow or tropic where they
double to the eye, and the whiter field of sky shewing between : the
illusion looking down the ‘wagon’ is complete. These swaths of fretted
cloud move in rank, not in file
April 22 — ^But such a lovely damasking in the sky as today I never
felt before. The blue was charged with simple instress, the higher,
zenith sky earnest and frowning, lower more light and sweet. High up
again, breathing through woolly coats of cloud or on the quains and
branches of the flying pieces it was the true exchange of crimson,
nearer the earth/ against the sun/ it was turquoise, and in the opposite
south-western bay below the sun it was like clear oil but just as full of
colour, shaken over with slanted flashing ‘travellers’, all in flight,
stepping one behind the other, their edges tossed with bright ravelling,
as if white napkins were thrown up in the sun but not quite at the
same moment so that they were all in a scale down the air falling one
after the other to the ground
April 27 — Went to see Sauley Abbey (Cistercian) : there is little
to see
Mesmerised a duck with chalk lines drawn from her beak some-
times level and sometimes forwards on a black table. They explain
that the bird keeping the abiding offscape of the hand grasping her
neck fancies she is still held down and cannot lift her head as long as
she looks at the chalk line, which she associates with the power that
holds her. This duck lifted her head at once when I put it down on the
table without chalk. But this seems inadequate. It is most likely the
fascinating instress of the straight white stroke
April 28 — I have never taken notice and I believe that I have
never seen such size and such a noble bulk of member in the clouds as
here and this day. The blue was like that blue of vase-glass, the clouds
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JOURNAL (1871)
meal white, the shadow/ where it lay/ just liver-coloured and nearer
the earth purplish
April 29 — I first heard the cuckoo but it Ir \s been heard before
Just caught sight of a little whirlwind which :an very fast careering
across our pond. It was made by con-
spiring catspaws seeming to be caught
in, in a whorl, to the centre. There
were of course two motions, the travel-
ling and the rotation. The circle was
regular and the drawing here bad. Each tail of
catspaw seemed to fling itself alive into its placcf
in turn, so that something like the scale A B C Di
was very rapidly repeated all round the ring — nat^\
a complete wall at once. I saw that there was
something eery, Circe-like and quick about it
May I — ^Very clear afternoon; a long chain of
waxen delicately moulded clouds just tinged with yellow/ in march
behind Pendle. At sunset it seemed to gather most of it to one great
bale, moulded as Br. Bacon ^ said like a brain, and I have said a bale
because its knops arc like the squeeze outwards of the packed stuff
between the places where a network of many cords might bite
into it
Found some daffodils^ wild but fading. You see the squareness of
the scaping well when you have several in your hand. The bright
yellow corolla is seeded with very fine spangles (like carnations etc)
which give it a glister and lie on a ribbing which makes it like cloth
of gold
May 6 — First summer-feeling day — not to last long
The banks are ‘versed’ with primroses, partly scattered, partly in
plots and squats, and at a little distance shewing milkwhite or silver^ —
little spilt till-fulls of silver. I have seen them reflected in green standing
farmyard water
May 9 — ^A simple behaviour of the cloudscape I have not realised
before. Before a N.E. wind great bars or rafters of cloud all the morn-
ing and in a manner all the day marching across the sky in regular
rank and with equal spaces between. They seem prism-shaped, flat-
bottomed and banked up to a ridge : their make is like light tufty snow
in coats ^
This day and May 1 1 the bluebells in the little wood between the
College and the highroad and in one of the Hurst Green doughs. In
the little wood/ opposite the light/ they stood in blackish spreads or
sheddings like the spots on a snake. The heads are then like thongs
and solemn in grain and grape-colour. But in the dough/ through the
light/ they came in falls of sky-colour washing the brows and slacks of
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JOURNAL (1871)
the ground with vein-blue, thickening at the double, vertical them-
selves and the young grass and brake fern combed vertical, but the
brake struck the upright of all this with light winged transomes. It was
a lovely sight. — The bluebells in your hand baffle you with their
inscape, made to every sense : if you draw your fingers through them
they are lodged and struggle/ with a -shock of wet heads ; the long
stalks rub and click and flatten to a fan on one another like your
fingers themselves would when you passed the palms hard across one
another, making a brittle rub and jostle like the noise of a hurdle
strained by leaning against ; then there is the faint honey smell and in
the mouth the sweet gum when you bite them. But this is easy, it is the
eye they baffle. They give one a fancy of panpipes and of some wind
instrument with stops — a trombone perhaps. The overhung necks —
for growing they are little more than a staff with a simple crook but
in water, where they stiffen, they take stronger turns, in the head like
sheephooks or, when more waved throughout, like the waves riding
through a whip that is being smacked — what with these overhung
necks and what with the crisped ruffled bells dropping mostly on one
side and the gloss these have at their footstalks they have an air of the
knights at chess. Then the knot or ‘knoop’ of buds some shut, some
just gaping, which makes the pencil of the whole spike, should be
noticed : the inscape of the flower most finely carried out in the
siding of the axes, each striking a greater and greater slant, is finished
in these clustered buds, which for the most part are not straightened
but rise to the end like a tongue and this and their tapering and a little
flattening they have make them look like the heads of snakes
May 17 etc — I have several times seen the peacock with train
spread lately. It has a very regular warp, like a shell, in which the
bird embays himself, the bulge being inwards below but the hollow
inwards above, cooping him in and only opening tow^ards the brim,
where the feathers are beginning to rive apart. The eyes, which lie
alternately when the train is shut, like scales or gadroons, fall into
irregular rows when it is opened, and then it thins and darkens against
the light, it loses the moistness and satin it has when in the pack but
takes another/ grave and expressive splendour, and the outermost eyes,
detached and singled, give with their corner fringes the suggestion of
that inscape of the flowing cusped trefoil which is often
effective in art. He shivers it when he first rears it and
then again at intervals and when this happens the rest
blurs and the eyes start forward. — I have thought it looks
like a tray or green basket or fresh-cut willow hurdle set all over with
Paradise fruits cut through — first through a beard of golden fibre and
then through wet flesh greener than greengages or purpler than
grapes ^ — or say that the knife had caught a tatter or flag of the skin
B 6028
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and laid it flat across the flesh — and then within all a sluggish
corner drop of black or purple oil
May 21 — Summer weather — so I wrote but there was very little
of it and we have hitherto (July 5) not had one hot day but much
cold and rain and so I believe it is everywhere, throughout Germany
for instance. — ^The ashes begin to open their knots : they make strong
yellow crowns against the slaty blue sky
This spring I have a good deal noticed the warp of the leaves, single
or in the cluster, for instance in lime and sycomore
May 24 — At sunset and later a strongly marked moulded rack. I
made out the make of it, thus — cross-hatching in fact — see April 2ii
and what is said there. Those may have been scarves
of cloud bellying upwards but often I believe it i^^
as it looks in the perspective, downwards, and theii
they may be curds or globes and solid, geometrical
solids/ that is, for all clouds are more or less cellular
and hollow. Since that day and since this (May 24)
I have noticed this kind of cloud : its brindled and hatched scaping
though difficult to catch is remarkable when seen. I do not think it
marks the direction of the flight. — Today (July 7) there has been
much of this cloud and its make easily read. The solid seems given
by little more than the lap or bay of a sheet.
It was a glowing yellow sunset. Pendle and all the hills rinsed clear,
their heights drawn with a brimming light, in which windows or
anything that could catch fluttered and laughed with the blaze—all
bounded by the taught outline of a mealy blue shadow covering the
valley, which was moist and giving up mist. Now where a strong
shadow lay in a slack between two brows of Pendle appeared above
the hill the same phenomenon I had seen twice before (once near
Brussels), a wedge of light faintly edged, green on the right side, red
on the left, as a rainbow would be, leaning to the right and skirting
the brow of the hill with a glowing edge. It lasted as long as I looked
without change — I do not know how long but between five minutes
and a quarter of an hour perhaps. It had clouds it seemed to me
behind it. Later when it was growing dark and the glow of the sunset
was quite gone I noticed to the right of the spot a little — over Whalley
— a rack of red cloud floating away, the red being I am persuaded a
native colour, in fact it could not have been borrowed, the sun having
long set and the higher clouds behind it not having it
On Whit Monday (May 29) went to Preston to see the procession.
Though not very splendid it moved me. But just as it was beginning
we heard the news of the murder of the hostages by the Commune
at the entry of the Government troops into Paris — 64 in all, including
the Archbishop, Mgr. Maret bishop of Sura, the Curd of the Madeleine,
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JOURNAL (1871)
and Fr. Olivain with four other of our Fathers. It was at the same
time the burning of the Tuileries and the other public buildings was
carried out
Lancashire — ‘of all the wind instruments big droom fots me best’.
— Old Wells directing someone how to set a wedge in a tree told him
that if he would put it so and so he would ‘fot it agate a riving’. —
The omission of the is I think an extension of the way in which we say
‘Father’, ‘government’ etc : they use it when there is a relative in
order to define. — ^They say/r^ and aboon
June 13 — A beautiful instance of inscape sided on the slide, that
is/ successive sidings of one inscape, is seen in the behaviour of the
flag flower from the shut bud to the full blowing : each term you can
distinguish is beautiful in itself and of course if the whole ‘behaviour’
were gathered up and so stalled it would have a beauty of all the
higher degree
June 17 — Solar halo at sunset: it looked bigger than usual, but this
was perhaps an illusion. It was of course like a rainbow incomplete
June 19 — Two beautiful anvil clouds low on the earthline in oppo-
site quarters, so that I stood between them
Later — ^Talking to James Shaw of Dutton Lee, who told us among
other things that Iwn in Luke Lum means standing water and to sail
as in Sail Wheel is to circle round. This is no tautology, for wheel is
not whirlpool but only means, as I think, the double made in the
water by the return current where at a spread of the stream caused by
the bend or otherwise the set or stem of the river bears on one bank
and sets the slacker water on its outside spinning with its friction and
so working back upstream
Later — The Horned Violet^ is a pretty thing, gracefully lashed.
Even in withering the flower ran through beautiful inscapes by the
screwing up of the petals into straight little barrels or tubes. It is not
that inscape does not govern the behaviour of things in slack and decay
as one can see even in the pining of the skin in the old and even in a
skeleton but that horror prepossesses the mind, but in this case there
was nothing in itself to shew even whether the flower were shutting
or opening
The ‘pinion’ of the blossom in the comfrey^ is remarkable for the
beauty of the coil and its regular lessening to its centre. Perhaps
the duller-coloured sorts shew it best
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July 8 — ^After much rain, some thunder, and no summer as yet, the
river swollen and golden and, where charged with air, like ropes and
hills of melting candy, there was this day a thunderstorm on a greater
scale — huge rocky clouds lit with livid light, hail and rain that flooded
the garden, and thunder ringing and echoing round like brass, so that
there is in a manner earwitness to the ovpavov.^ The lightning
seemed to me white like a flash from a lookingglass but Mr. Lentaigne
in the afternoon noticed it rose-coloured and lilac. I noticed two kinds
of flash but I am not sure that sometimes there were not the two to-
gether from different points of the same cloud or starting from the same
point different ways — one a straight stroke, broad like a stroke with
chalk and liquid, as if the blade of an oar just stripped open a ribbort
scar in smooth water and it caught the light ; the other narrow and\
wire-like, like the splitting of a rock and danced down-along in a
thousand jags. I noticed this too, that there was a perceptible interval
between the blaze and first inset of the flash and its score in the sky
and that that seemed to be first of all laid in a bright confusion and
then uttered by a tongue of brightness (what is strange) running up
from the ground to the cloud, not the other way
July? — ^At eight o’clock about sunset hanging due opposite the
house in the east the greatest stack of cloud, to call it one cloud, I ever
can recall seeing. Singled by the eye and taken up by itself it was
shining white but taken with the sky, which was a strong hard blue,
it was anointed with warm brassy glow : only near the earth it was
stunned with purplish shadow. I'he instress of its size came from com-
parison not with what was visible but with the remembrance of other
clouds : like the Monte Rosa range from the Corner Grat its burliness
forced out everything else and loaded the eyesight. It was in two limbs
fairly level above and below but not equal in breadth — as 2 to 3 or
3 to 4 perhaps — , like two waggons or loaded trucks. The left was
rawly made, a fleece parcelled in wavy locks flowing open upwards,
with shady gutturs* between, like the ringlets of a ram’s fleece blowing ;
the right was shapely, roped like a heavy cable being slowly paid and
by its weight settling into gross coils and beautifully plotted with
tortoise-shell squares of shading — indeed much as a snake is plotted,
and this one rose steep up like an immeasurable cliff
[The two rocks^ on which Dumbarton Castle in the Clyde stands
reminded me of this cloud Aug. 28]
[While I am writing, Aug. 12, in a room in the Old Magazine at
the College I hear every now and then the deathwatch ticking. It goes
for a few seconds at a time. Several of us have heard it]
July 24 — Robert says the first grass from the scythe is the swathe,
then comes the straw (tedding), then rowing, then the footcocks, then
• Thus in MS.
JOURNAL (1871) 213
breaking, then the hubrows, which are gathered into hubs, then sometimes
another break and turning, then rkkles, the biggest of all the cocks,
which are run together into placks, the shapeless heaps from which the
hay is carted
Aug. 6 — Unusually bright. From Jeffrey Hill on the Longridge fell
in the ridge opposite with Parlock Pike the folds and gullies with
shadow in them were as sharp as the pleats in a new napkin and we
made out in the sea, appearing as clearly outlined flakes of blue, the
Welsh coast, Anglesea, and Man, and between these two the sea was
as bright as brass. Henry Kerr^ was with me.
Next day there was heat and so it has been since, not bright. Till
then the summer had been most unusually wet and that widely, for
instance in Germany
The Battle of Dorking^ and the fear of the Revolution make me
sad now
In the holidays we spent a fortnight at the College. On Aug. 16 we
sailed from Liverpool for Indian on the Argyleshire coast of the Frith
of Clyde. The same day Mr. Hayden and Mr. Lentaigne left us for
Ireland. We landed at Greenock in the morning and went by a Clyde
steamer to Indian. Out at sea saw the mirage for the first time,
lifting up the headlands of the coast from the sea thus
Also saw (off the Isle of Man) high near the zenith and above the sun not
a halo but the arc of a bow just like a rainbow unless rather smaller.
It was convex to the sun. No rain was then or at any time falling. A
sailor who said it was a rainbow did not make much of it but said it
was a sign of wet weather in the morning and fine in the evening, in
fact the common weather-saw about the rainbow. The time was
towards sunset
Aug. 19 — To Arran and back by steamer. Goat Fell and the other
mountains enclosing Glen Lannox seen from the sea are fine. Wc
landed at Brodick and had only time for a rush to the entrance of
Glen Rosa
Aug, 20 — Up the brae behind the house in the evening to see the
view — much beautiful after-sunset clouding and all round the lochs
and sea
Aug. 21 — ^To Loch Egg, walking barefoot over the low-water sands
of Holy Loch and fording ‘a big burn’. Mr. Bacon and I went up one
of the braes, by which the opposite heights looked nobler ; else I was
rather disappointed
Aug. 23 — Homecoming of the Marquis of Lome and Princess
Louise after their honeymoon. Some of our people went to Inverary to
sec it, not without a collision and other dangers
Aug. 24 — To see Edinburgh. I should like to stay there long enough
214 JOURNAL (1871)
to let the fine inscape of the Castle rock and of Arthur’s Seat and
Salisbury Crag grow on one. We were taken over the Casde by a
Mr. Ball a Protestant and a very kind man. We saw Holyrood. The
so-called Chapel RoyaP is beautiful transition-work (1170--1175) and
later, remarkable among other things for two low arches looking as if
3rd Pointed over the gateway foiled with downward fleurdelys. There
is such another arch in the choir screen of Glasgow Cathedral. As we
were on the ramparts of the Castle a great gale sprang up, I believe
one of the most violent there had been for years in Scotland, which
tossed us in crossing the Firth from Wemyss Bay to Inellan and the
rain, which I took for hail, cut one’s ears and somebody said was libs
pebble-stones
At night northern lights beautiful but colourless, near the horizoii
in permanent birch-bark downward streaks but shooting in streamers'
across the zenith and higher sky like breath misting and then being
cut off from very sensitive glass
Aug. 28 — ^The last day at the villa and first really fine one. Up the
Clyde to Glasgow. We went to see Napier’s shipbuilding yard^ and
mismanaged things so as not to see the Cathedral till when it was shut
and almost dark. It is very complete and well preserved. I had not
time to study the tracery well from within nor at all from without. It
seems much like that at Salisbury. Two instances, pairs, in the tran-
septs however struck me as fine and effective : I am not quite sure I
remember them correctly but they were three-lighted, with the lights
coupled across one another and so the heads carried to the
main arch, the intersections thus given and others filled with
trefoiled roundels foil not cusp at bottom —
In the evening we sailed from the Broomielaw for Liverpool,
coming into port next day, where Mr. Silva left us. Saw a shoal of
porpoises. Had a talk with a Welsh stonemason, an honest simple
young fellow.
Aug. 30 — In the evening we went into retreat under Fr. Leslie,^
who pleased me very much. It ended on Sept. 8, when Cyril came and
stayed at the College till Monday the i ith. We travelled together as
far as Blackburn he for Liverpool, I for Hampstead. I found there my
father and Milicent. Next day to see Grandmamma and Aunt Anne.
Grandmamma looks changed. She says — my father told me in the
evening but I ought to have heard it from herselF— that she has heard
her grandfather say that he could remember an old man saying he
had seen the soldiers going about the hedges in his part of the country
in search of Charles I — after which battle ?
Sept. 13 — ^To Bursledon on the Hamble in Hampshire, where my
mother and the rest were staying. From the garden there is a beautiful
view over the river. It is an elm and oak country but not much
JOURNAL (1871) 315
wooded. The woods have the rich packed look in the distance one
notices in southcountry landscape. Laurels grow strong — glossy, smart,
and graceful, and bear their fruit
Sept. 14 — By boat down the river to Hamble, near where it enters
Southampton Water, and a walk home. On this walk I came to a
cross road I had been at in the morning carrying it in another ‘run-
ning instress’. I was surprised to recognise it and the moment I did it
lost its present instress, breaking off from what had immediately gone
before, and fell into the morning’s. It is so true what Ruskin says
talking of the carriage in Turner’s Pass of Faido* that what he could
not forget was that ‘he had come by the road’. And what is this run-
ning instress, so independent of at least the immediate scape of the
thing, which unmistakeably distinguishes and individualises things?
Not imposed outwards from the mind as for instance by melancholy
or strong feeling: I easily distinguish that instress. I think it is this
same running instress by which we identify or, better, lest and refuse
to identify with our various suggestions/ a thought which has just
slipped from the mind at an interruption
Sept. 15 — Among other clever things the parrot here says when
wasps come near her ‘Get along’, ruffling her feathers with excitement.
When I pull out a handkerchief she makes a noise of blowing the nose
In the afternoon to Nctley Abbey,^ a spot which everything makes
beautiful — the ruins, the lie of the ground, the ivy, the ashtrees, and
that day the bright pieces of evening light. The ashes it would not be
easy to match but some are dead, others dying, and one in the chapter-
house fallen across, the roots to the ground but higher up the stem/
resting on the wall : others have been felled. There is one notable dead
tree in the N.W. corner of the nave, the inscape markedly holding its
most simple and beautiful oneness up from the ground through a
graceful swerve below (I think) the spring of branches up to the tops
of the timber. The finest of all stands I think in the monks’ day-room.
In the building the most beautiful and noticeable things are the east
window ; the triplet windows on the S. side of the nave,^ the middle
light trefoiled the other two lancets : outside they are flush with the
wall but inside hooded under arches which spring lower than their sills
or at least than the top of the sill ; a pair of plain three-light lancets in
each clearstory of the S. transept, which dwell on the eye with a simple
direct instress of trinity ; a fine piece of blind tracery in the quasi-
triforium of this transept at the S. end — two broad arcade-arches (sub-
divided I think but this has gone) and containing in the head a
quaterfoiled roundel each, the two surmounted by a great six-foiled
roundel (sharp-hung) — plate tracery and the roundel having no im-
mediate gearing with the two arches ; lastly three beautiful windows in
the chapterhouse, not quite of equal breadth etc — 3 l plain sixfoil, clear,
2I6
JOURNAL (1871)
not enclosed in any roundel, at least inside, riding two plain broad
lancets : the cusps were sharp and both it and the lancets had no work
beyond the splay inwards but the jambs (?) of the head to the whole
window were moulded and stripes of red colour could be seen in the
splay of the lancets of one window radiating from the opening and so
following the splay. I notice a predominance of the series i, 2, 4, 8 in
parts, perhaps throughout — in the east window four lights gathered
into two greater heads (the middle and greater mullion still stands)
and an eight-foil in the circle riding them, four pillars in the jambs
each carrying a moulding of four ribs, thus 16 in all, the two middle
ribs carrying a band, fillet, or whatever it is called ;
two windows of two lights in each side of the choif,
that is, I suppose, two bays ; two bays in the trail|-
septs, eight in the nave etc. This deserves note,
Division by 2 is of course the simplest of all division
but this will not explain the choice of the four
mouldings for instance here, which are so taken for
their own sake and clearly do not arise from subdivision
Sept. 16 — ^To Southampton to confession. The tollkeeper at the
floating bridge says Tn lieu of keeping people waiting’
In returning the sky in the west was in a great wide winged or shelved
rack of rice-white fine pelleted fretting. At sunset it gathered down-
wards and as the light then bathed it from below the fine ribbings
and long brindled jetties dripping with fiery bronze had the look of
being smeared by some blade which had a little flattened and richly
mulled what it was drawn across. This bronze changed of course to
crimson and the whole upper sky being now plotted with pale soaked
blue rosetting seized some of it foreward in wisps or plucks of smooth
beautiful carnation or of coral or camellia/ rose-colour
Sept. 1 7 — To Netley Hospital* to Mass. In the evening walk with
my mother and Grace through the stubble fields and wood. First
definitely adverted to the V-shaped appearance in the sky^ opposite
the sunset, the Plough tail. The stilts seems* on this side of the clouds
when there are clouds. This day there were none and they were bars
of dull blue. Now it seemed to me that as the sun sank lower beneath
the horizon they fell over to the right, the south, which would agree
with their being polar to the sun, which goes northward by night as
he souths by day, and adds weight to the realitynof the phenomenon.
And is not the rainbow-like phenomenon of May 24 the end of one of
the stilts? The day before (the i6th) I had caught a glimpse of the
same thing, there then being clouds in the East, and the stilts lighter
than the clouds
They told me that when the young birds in a nest under one of their
♦ Thus in MS.
217
JOURNAL (1871)
windows were nearly ready to fly a wasp coming into the nest stung
them in the throats so that they died and then was seen in the nest
feeding on them
Sept. 18 — Back to Stony hurst by Reading. I met with much kind-
ness that day — ^at Bursledon, in the train, and here. Mr. Mazoyer had
gone that morning
Nov. 10, I think — ^The Northern Lights. Fine clouds that day and
hail for a day or two before
Nov. 16 — ^To Parlick Pike. Bright sun but distance dim. Smooth,
almost silvery brown nap given by the withered brake, beaches and
landslips of blue stone, black burnt patches, all this with the native
green of the fells gives a beautiful medley of clear colours
Nov. 28 — At 8.30* the sun being up and shining bright Venus was
very clear in the sky
Nov. 29 — parhelion seen after dinner, the mock sun being almost
as bright as the true. I was not there : they did not take the trouble to
tell anyone
Dec. 1 7-18 at night — Rescued a little kitten that was perched in the
sill of the round window at the sink over the gasjet and dared not
jump down. I heard her mew a piteous long time till I could bear it no
longer ; but I make a note of it because of her gratitude after I had
taken her down, which made her follow me about and at each turn of
the stairs as I went down leading her to the kitchen run back a few
steps and try to get up to lick me through the banisters from the flight
above
Some events of interest of 1871 and the end of ’70 (see that date)
partly from my memoranda and partly got out of Whitaker’s Almanack
by Cyril and Uncle John
Recapture of Orleans by the Germans Dec. 5, 1870
Death of Prim and landing of King Amadeo in Spain Dec. 30
Le Mans occupied by the Germans (after several days of fighting)
Jan. 12, 1871
Surrender of Paris Jan. 28
Signing of peace Feb. 26
Paris seized by the Commune March 18
First defeat of the Communal troops and death of Flourens April 4(?)
Death of the Archbishop etc May 24
Suppression of the insurrection May 28
Exercise of royal prerogative to carry the Army Purchase bill
against the House of Lords Aug, 1 7
The Titchborne trial* began some time early in the summer, and
after lasting 103 days ended on March 6 of this year in a nonsuit. The
same day Arthur Orton the claimant was committed for perjury.
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JOURNAL (1871-2)
Sei^eant Ballantine,’ Giffard^ Jeune^, and Sir George Honeyman^ were
retained on his side, the Attorney General (John Duke Coleridge)® and
Hawkins® for the defendant
Pius IX reached the 25th year of his pontificate (‘the years of Peter’)
in June. George Grote’ died the same year
Early in December was frost and some skating. Then much wind
and rain but very little cold till when I made the note, Feb. ii, and
later. It was as mild a winter as could be. Things budded early,
celandine for instance was springing at the end of January. At the
beginning of March the weather was balmy. On March 2 1 leaves Oti
the poplar, quick, and hornbeam had been out some time and knots
of leaf were open on the sycomore: cp. last year, April 15. On Marciy
21 was the first snow fall. There was then snow and frost for some daysy
the second winter. See March 26
Feb. 23 — A lunar halo: I looked at it from the upstairs library
window. It was a grave grained sky, the strands rising a little from
left to right. The halo was not quite round, for in the first place it was
a little pulled and drawn below, by the refraction of the lower air
perhaps, but what is more it fell in on the nether left hand side to
rhyme the moon itself, which was not quite at full. I could not but
strongly feel in my fancy the odd instress of this, the moon leaning on
her side, as if fallen back, in the cheerful light floor within the ring,
after with magical rightness and success tracing round her the ring
the steady copy of her own outline. But this sober grey darkness and
pale light was happily broken through by the orange of the pealing of
Mitton bells
Another night from the gallery window I saw a brindled heaven, the
moon just marked by a blue spot pushing its way through the darker
cloud, underneath and on the skirts of the rack bold long flakes
whitened and swaled like feathers, below/ the garden with the heads
of the trees and shrubs furry grey: I read a broad careless inscape
flowing throughout
At the beginning of March they were felling some of the ashes in our
grove
March 5 — A letter from Challis saying he had left the Church
March 13 — ^After a time of trial and especially a morning in which
I did not know which way to turn as the account of De Ranch’s final
conversion® was being read at dinner the verse Qui confidant in Domino
sicut mons Sion which satisfied him and resolved him to enter his abbey
of La Trappe by the mercy of God came strongly home to me too, so
that I was choked for a little while and could not keep in my tears
About this time I heard from Addis and Baillie of the death of
Fletcher of Balliol. Baillie says ‘He had a house in some very out of the
JOURNAL (1872) 219
way place and I fancy was not very well off. He started off a walk of
some I o or 1 2 miles to a town to try and get a servant and on returning
was caught by a snowstorm. He was found dead only a few hundred
yards from his own house. Is it not sad ? He had only been married a
few months.’ But Addis says ‘Do you remember Fletcher a Scotch
Catholic ? He was a penitent of one of our FF. and used to spend a
great deal of time in our church. He married a young lady of good
family whom he had converted from the Scotch Kirk and went out
with her to the Red River. There he was the great support of the
Catholic chapel. One morning he said to his wife “I have made my
meditation this morning on the best way to spend the last day of my
life.” That same day he was frozen to death in the snow. He had
served as a pontifical Zouave shortly before his marriage. The last time
I saw liim I was commiserating him about his health, which had been
shattered by a fall from a horse, and he said quite simply “No, I think
it was a providential accident, for it took me away from Oxford.”
When he bid his confessor here goodbye he burst into tears and said
how much he felt leaving our church. His uncle told me all the
particulars of his death. He had another uncle a Jesuit Fr. of the
Irish province’
Addis also mentions the cold feeling between the two Oratories is
thawing
Stickles/ Devonshire for the foamy tongues of water below falls
March 23 — They say here Mhee road for the high road and steel for
stile . — Saw a lad burning bundles of dry honeysuckle: the flame
(though it is no longer freshly in my mind) was brown and gold,
brighter and glossier than glass or silk or water and ran reeling up to
the right in one long handkerchief and curling like a cartwhip
March 26 — Snow fallen upon the leaves had in the night coined or
morselled itself into pyramids like hail. Blade leaves of some bulbous
plant, perhaps a small iris, were like delicate little saws, so hagged
with frost. It is clear that things are spiked with the frost mainly on one
side but why this is and how far different things on the same side at the
same time I have not yet found
March 30, Holy Saturday — ^warm, with thunder, odd tufts of thin-
textured very plump round clouds something like the eggs in an
opened ant-hill
April 9 — Mr. Kennedy left us. He offered himself to Fr. de Smet'
for the American mission
April 16 — For a good many days now we have had pied skies or big
flying clouds and cold west winds. Mr. New^ says they pass over
icebergs which cool them
After this cold and then thunder
April 30 — First very warm day
JOURNAL (1872)
220
May I — We have a cherry tree from head to foot every branch*
sleeved with white glossy blossom
Much rain early in May
May 13 — ^This day (and often afterwards) we have had one or two
bats flying at midday and circling so near that I could see the ears and
the claws and the purplish web of the wings with the ribs and veins
through it
At this time it turned mild
May 22 — I was at the Observatory to see an eclipse of the moon.
There happened to be a lunar rainbow, an arc of pale white light,
colours scarcely if at all discernible '
May 3 1 — Sweetman went away
June 13 — Some of our community went to see a poor bedriddei
factory girl at Preston who has been for years living on no food but th^
Blessed Sacrament, which she receives once a week
June 14 — I had the bud of a purple flagflower in water and hap-
pening to touch it it broke open
A little after this the first warm weather
June 24 — ^A double rainbow,
and I noticed that the sky was
darker between the two bows, so
that the effect was that of a broad
bridge with two coloured brims.
It is no doubt the excess of the
red colour that made the inside
brownish and so of the purple
" ^ ^ H w outside
^ ^ June 29 — Dielytras^ — inthefull-
blown flower there are at least
four symmetrical ‘wards’ all beautiful in inscape — the broadside, the
birdseye, underneath, and edgewise, besides what can be seen in the
unopened bud
When the sunlight near sunset falls on the wall of my room I can
see the fuming of the atmosphere marked like the shadow of smoke : I
have seen it once with the light coming through leaves, and this got
less and less distinct on white paper which I moved towards the win-
dow, and once coming without a break from the brim of the fells^
It is the same seen the other way as the water ridi one sees in the sun’s
disc when low
July 19 — ^The ovary of the blown foxglove surrounded by the green
calyx is perhaps that conventional flower in Pointed and other
floriated work which I could not before identify. It might also be St.
John’s-wort
* MS reads branched.
221
JOURNAL (1872)
Stepped into a barn of ours, a great shadowy barn, where the hay
had been stacked on either side, and looking at the great rudely arched
timberframes — ^principals (?) and tie-beams, which make them look
like bold big As with the cross-bar high up — I thought how sadly
beauty of inscape was unknown and buried away from simple people
and yet how near at hand it was if they had eyes to see it and it could
be called out everywhere again
This month here and all over the country many great thunder-
storms. Cyril, in bed I think, at Liverpool after a simultaneous flash
and crash felt a shock like one from a galvanic battery and for some
time one of his arms went numbed. At Roehampton Fr. Williams was
doubled up and another Father had his breviary struck out of his
hand. Here a tree was struck near the boys’ cricketfield and a cow
was ripped up
After the examinations we went for our holiday out to Douglas in
the Isle of Man Aug. 3. At this time I had first begun to get hold of the
copy of Scotus on the Sentences in the Baddely library^ and was flush
with a new stroke of enthusiasm. It may come to nothing or it may be
a mercy from God. But just then when I took in any inscape of the
sky or sea I thought of Scotus^
Aug. 4 — Kirk Onchan church is modern and if you looked to any-
thing but the steeple very poor but the steeple is so strongly and boldly
designed that it quite deceived me and I took it for old work well
preserved. In the churchyard is an old engraved cross with knotwork
such as on those at Whalley
Aug. 5 — Walking to Laxey, which is the next considerable bay
north of Douglas — a little place Groudle or Growdale lies between —
we heard a little girl sing a Manx song,^ though indeed it was but
four lines, a rhyming couplet and the third line repeated, and she
recited it only. It sounded just like English words done into nonsense
verses : thus the third and fourth lines or burden seemed ‘The brow
sliall loose, The brow shall loose’. Manx can be understood by a
speaker of Irish. The people are the most goodnatured I think I have
ever met
Aug. 6 — ^The rocks are grey sandstone, in very regular slabs, cleav-
ing like slate, and decayed between the slabs or flakes so as to look like
wood rotted with water. I noticed from the cliff how the sea foots or
toes the shore and the inlets, now with a push and flow, now slacking,
returning to stress and pulling back^
Aug. 7 — Cormorants, called here Black Divers, flew by screaming
As we were bathing at a cove near a big hawk flew down chasing a
little shrieking bird close beside us
We went mackerel fishing. Letting down a line baited with a piece
of mackerel skin — tin or any glimmering thing will do — we drew up
222
JOURNAL (1872)
nine. A few feet down they look blue-silver as they rise. We fell away
with the tide so as not to be able to get into the bay again and had to
put in under shore south of Douglas and row/ hard under the cliffs to
the Head. Looking up I saw a sheep hanging in one of the softly
fluted green channels running down between the rocks of the cliff.
The brow was crowned with that burning clear of silver light which
surrounds the sun, then the sun itself leapt out with long bright spits
of beams
Aug. 8 — ^Walked to Ramsey, and back by steamer. From the high-
road I saw how the sea, dark blue with violet cloud-shadows, was
warped to the round of the world like a coat upon a ball and often
later I marked that perspective. I had many beautiful sights of it,
sometimes to the foot of the cliff, where it was of a strong smoulderinjj
green over the sunken rocks — these rocks, which are coated with small
limpets, discolour the coast all along with a fringe of yellow at the
tide-mark and under water reflect light and make themselves felt where
the smooth black ones would not shew — , but farther out blue
shadowed with gusts from the shore ; at other times with the brinks
hidden by the fall of the hill, packing the land in/ it was not seen how
far, and then you see best how it is drawn up to a brow at the skyline
and stoops away on either side, tumbling over towards the eye in the
broad smooth fall of a lakish apron of water, which seems bound over
or lashed to land below by a splay of dark and light braids : they are
the gusts of wind all along the perspective with which all the sea that
day was dressed.
And it is common for the sea looked down upon, where the sheety
spread is well seen but the depth and mass unfelt, to sway and follow
the wind like the tumbled canvas of a loose sail
The flowers in the island are plentiful and strongly coloured. On the
sides of the cliff above our house, Derby Castle, the brambles were
often doubled. The flower was bigger, purplish pink, and the five
petals changed for a multitude of small strap leaves as in daisies and
auriculas
The country is bare and you see the valleys and fell-sides plotted and
painted with the squares of the fields and their hedges far and wide.
But the trees are rich and thickly leaved where they grow. I remember
one little square house cushioned up in a thatched grove of green like
a man with an earache. These groves are stunted and shaped by the
Seabreeze but plighted thick together and cast a deep green shade.
Often the cage of boughs is bare and ragged but thick tufts at the top.
The ashes thrive and the combs are not wiry and straight but rich
and beautifully curled. The climate varies little and is said to have a
higher average of heat in winter than Rhodez or Milan. Fuchsias,
strawberry trees, and tamarisks do well
JOURNAL (1872) 223
On the way we went aside to see the Laxey waterwheel 72 ft. in
diameter, said to be the biggest in the world. It is on the side of a hill
up Laxey glen, the water is delivered a little below its highest p>oint
and turns the wheel towards itself, acting mainly no doubt by its
weight in the buckets but perhaps also by its flow, and I do not know
whether it should be called a breastwheel or overshot. It is geared by
a long timber shaft or beam or piece running by little wheels on a rail
to an oscillating head carrying at one side a makeweight and at the
other a connecting rod working a pump. The wheel is used to pump
to lead mine. It turns once in 25 seconds
Aug. 10 — I was looking at high waves. The breakers always are
parallel to the coast and shape themselves to it except where the curve is
sharp however the wind blows. They are rolled out by the shallowing
shore just as a piece of putty between the palms whatever its shape
runs into a long roll. The slant ruck or crease one sees in them shows
the way of the wind. The regularity of the barrels surprised and
charmed the eye; the edge behind the comb or crest was as smooth
and bright as glass. It may be noticed to be green behind and silver
white in front : the silver marks where the air begins, the pure white
is foam, the green/ solid water. Then looked at to the right or left they
are scrolled over like mouldboards or feathers or jibsails seen by the
edge. It is pretty to see the hollow of the barrel disappearing as the
white combs on each side run along the wave gaining ground till
the two meet at a pitch and crush and overlap each other
About all the turns of the scaping from* the break and flooding of
wave to its run out again I have not yet satisfied myself. The shores are
swimming and the eyes have before them a region of milky surf but it
is hard for them to unpack the huddling and gnarls of the water and
law out the shapes and the sequence of the running : I catch however
the looped or forked wisp made by every big pebble the backwater
runs over — if it were clear and smooth there w ould be a network from
their overlapping, such as can in fact be seen on smooth sand after
the tide is out — ; then I saw it run browner, the foam dwindling and
twitched into long chains of suds, while the strength of the back-
draught shrugged the stones together and clocked them one against
another
Looking from the cliff I saw well that work of dimpled foamlaps —
strings of short loops or halfmoons^ — which I had studied at Fresh-
water years ago
It is pretty to see the dance and swagging of the light green tongues
or ripples of waves in a place locked between rocks
Aug. 12 — ^To see Peel Castle. On the way we went into the church-
yard of Kirk Braddan, as beautiful as any I ever saw : fine and beauti-
ful ashes and a wychelm with big glossy happy and shapely leaves,
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JOURNAL (1872)
Spanish chestnuts and other trees surround it and others stand in
groves beyond ; the ground slopes down to the road with tier upon tier
of thick black gravestones. There are several Danish crosses with runes
engraved and curious work containing dragons and monsters, more
odd than pretty and a little Japanese in look. We also went into the
little ruined chapel of Kirk Trinnian* growing ashes now and half
pulled down by them, about which there is a foolish legend of a tailor
and a goblin called a Buggane : the legend is told in guidebooks but
our driver home told it also as he had always heard it from a child, so
that it lives. We passed the Tynevald (from Thingvollr) mound too
from which the Manx laws are published — now they only read the
titles of the acts. It is an earthen mound of four rounds or stages one
within the other like Ecbatana, each about a yard high perhaps, buif
a way up of lower steps is cut on the side towards the church : every
part is of green turf
Peel castle is a ruin. It is built wholly or partly of red sandstone.
The walls and windows of St. German’s cathedral, in First Pointed,
are in some degree of preservation. There is also a red chapel (with
herringbone work) and round tower nearly perfect ascribed to St.
Patrick (444) or if he was never in the island connected with his
mission. And in other ways the Castle has historical interest. But what
pleased me most were the great seas under a rather heavy swell
breaking under the strong rocks below the outer side of the castle —
glass-green, as loose as a great windy sheet, blown up and plunging
down and bursting upwards from the rocks in spews of foam ; but in a
great gale, our funny meek old guide told us, it is a grander sight than
we saw
Aug. 13 — In a deep rockpool left by the falling of the tide I noticed
the same phenomenon as where water is mixed with wine or spirits —
a fine texture of long tangling silky fringes and even casting a shadow
of itself. I noticed it again Aug. 15 at the instant of plunging my feet
in a pool. I think it must be the oil upon the skin
Aug. 14 — Very beautiful sunset ; first I think crisscross yellow flosses,
then a graceful level shell of streamers spreading from the sundown.
The smoke of the steamers rose lagging in very longlimbed zigzacs of
flat black vapour, the town was overhung and shadowed by odd
minglings of smoke, and the sea at high tide brimming the bay was
striped with rose and green like an apple. At night the northern lights,
which an odd respectful man whose son was called Abraham told me
he had never seen in 1 7 years he had been in the island, but he cannot
have looked: they were bounded by an arch which came to bisect
the heaven and then to take in more than half
The next day, the Assumption, a thick haze and heavy dew, then
rain met us on our road to Port Erin. Mr. Ratcliff and I turned back
835
JOURNAL (1872)
but when it held up turned aside to Port Soderick, a little bay south
of Douglas, and spent the day there among the rocks and caverns.
We saw hawks and gulls and cormorants and a heron, I think, that
alighted on a rock with easy beating wings. In flight it was like
this —
Aug. 16 — ^Big waves. There is a stack of rocks beyond the bay con-
nected with the slope of the green banks by a neck of grass. Like an
outwork or breakwater to the stack is a long block consisting of a
table or platform of even height sloping forward to the sea and flanked
by two squarelike taller towers or shoulders, all shining when wet like
smooth coal and cut and planed like masonry. The sea was breaking
on all the stack and striking out all the ledges and edges at each breaker
like snow does a building. In the narrow channel between this out-
work and the main stack it was all a lather of foam, in which a spongy
and featherlight brown scud bred from the churning of the water
roped and changed, riding this and that, but never got clear of the
channel. The overflow of the last wave came in from either side
tilling up the channel and met halfway, each with its own moustache.
When the wave ran very high it would brim over on the sloping shelf
below me and move smoothly and steadily along it like the palm of a
hand along a table drawing off the dust. In the channel I saw (as
everywhere in surfy water) how the laps of foam mouthed upon one
another. In watching the sea one should be alive to the oneness which
all its motion and tumult receives from its perpetual balance and
falling this way and that to its level
Aug. 17 — Tried to reach Snae Fell but we missed the way and
turned back at Glen Roy. Glen Roy and Laxey Glen run up from the
sea and meet at the foot of Snae Fell. We met an old man who com-
plained that now a days the young people were too proud to talk
Manx and would talk nothing but English and it was not English at all
Aug. 1 9 — ^Again to Port Soderick. This time it was a beautiful day.
I looked down from the cliffs at the sea breaking on the rocks at high-
water of a spring tide — first, say, it is an install of green marble
knotted with ragged white, then fields of white lather, the comb of the
wave richly clustered and crisped in breaking, then it is broken small
and so unfolding till it runs in threads and thrums twitching down the
backdraught to the sea again.
Aug. 20 — ^Back to Stonyhurst. In Liverpool I saw Cyril. From
Blackburn I walked and I never saw Lancashire or Ree Deep look
so beautiful and the grass so fresh a green. The inland breeze after
Douglas felt warm and velvety. Fr. Rector came over to wait on us at
supper, which touched me
Aug. 22— To see Grace Wells’ loom at Dutton Lee. She says wark
B flC28
226
JOURNAL (1872)
for warp and wefty I think, for woof (there is perhaps some difference of
meaning). There are what are called by-ends but I do not exactly
know what : I think they are certain surplus warp-threads, at all events
they come from the warp, are drawn together to a heap and taken
backwards over the near end of the loom where they hang in one ball
of ‘clue’, if I remember
We heard also at Dutton Lee the same story of the origin of the
mossy cankers on rose bushes as they have in Ireland : they call it
Virgin^ s brier (they say breer). They told us that to carry a thorn in your
hand in a storm is a preservative against lightning or keeps you from
seeing the flash
Aug. 29 — To see Clitheroe Castle^ (which belonged once to tl\e
De Lacys) '
Sept 1-8 the retreat, given by Fr. James Jones^
One day about this time, I think during the retreat, Wm. Stanton
one of the cleverest boys they had at the College died by hanging, at
Chorley in the Woods in this county. He had been reading a novel of
Trollope’s in which a hanging is described and it was believed he was
trying to act it. His body was naked except that his shoes were on. He
was not throttled but died by some shock to the spine, which had
been injured some years before at Stonyhurst. Mr. Cyprian Splaine^
had tears in his eyes as he told us about it
Sept. 14-16 Cyril and Uncle John were here.^
Sept. 17—I wandered all over Pendle with Mr. Sutton. There are
some black scalped places on it that look made for a witches’ sabbath,
especially on the far side looking over the part of the country which the
bulk of the hill between hides from us here, where the hillside is very
sheer, and you might fancy them dancing on the black piece and
higher and higher at each round and then flinging off at last one after
the other each on her broomstick clear over the flat of country below.
And there is another odd thing by the same token here, namely that
in looking out forward over the edge while to right and left and be-
yond is wooded, such wood as is to be seen in this county, there lies
before you a bare stretch of land almost without a tree it is so bleak
and bare and in size and shape just such as might be covered by the
shadow of Pendle at some time of the day : as the shadow of a wall or
tree scores off and keeps and shelters hoarfrost or dew and the sun-
light eats up to the edge of it this seemed chilled and blasted with just
such well-marked plotting off and bounding line
There is a brook draining the bogs on the breadth of the ridge which
has parted and moulded the whole in time and saws as it runs a deeper
and deeper gully till at last it becomes a great cleave or valley. They
had cut the grass and made a little hay on one slope of this and looking
from the other side in the swaths, which ran down towards the bottom
JOURNAL (1872) 327
of the cleft and had been washed by strong out,* I caught an inscape as
flowing and well marked almost as the frosting on glass and slabs ; but
I could not reproduce it afterwards with the pencil. I noticed damask-
ing also in dry parched pieces of root of grass which strew the place
and have perhaps fallen from the sheeps’ mouths in browsing. Also I
saw the same clustered-shaft make in softy miry peat (all bearing one
way) as I have remarked on in snow
The wheelwright’s son, a nice intelligent lad, guided us across the
fields from Mitton to Clitheroe. He called felly/ and nave short like
have. Wind he pronounced with the i long. When he began to speak
quickly or descriptively he dropped or slurred the article.
We came down the hill to Little Mearley Hall, where they were
marking a sea of sheep and the farmer, a goodnatured man, showed us
the front of the house built in with pieces brought from Whalley — or
Sauley? Abbey, I forget which
Shortly after — Fr. Fitzsimon went to the College and Fr. Maccann*
became minister
Sept. 20 — Fr. Gapaldi went to St. Beuno’s. Fr. Thiemann a genial
Hanoverian came in his place.
Oct. 5 — ^A goldencrested wren had got into my room at night and
circled round dazzled by the gaslight on the white cieling; when
caught even and put out it would come in again. Ruffling the crest
which is mounted over the crown and eyes like beetlebrows, I smoothed
and fingered the little orange and yellow feathers which are hidden
in it. Next morning I found many of these about the room and en-
closed them in a letter to Cyril on his wedding day
Oct. 8 — Cyril was married to Harriet Bockett^ at Muswell Hill
Oct. 20 — ^Addis was ordained priest
Oct. 27 — Fr. Gallwey came up. Before night litanies he came to my
room as I lay on my bed making my examen, for I had some fever,
and sitting by the bedside took my hand within his and said some
affectionate and most encouraging words
That fever came from a chill I caught one Blandyke^ and the chill
from weakness brought about by my old complaint, which before and
much more after the fever was worse than usual. Indeed then I lost so
much blood that I hardly saw how I was to recover. Nevertheless it
stopped suddenly, almost at the worst. This was why I came up to
town at Christmas
Nov. 1 7 — ^Dr. Herbert Vaughan^ after Dr. Turner’s death appointed
bishop of Salford came to visit us. An Academy was held in his
honour and addresses in prose and verse read. I wrote some Greek
iambics
Nov. 27 — Great fall of stars, identified with Biela’s comet. They
• Thus in MS.
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JOURNAL (1872)
radiated from Perseus or Andromeda and in falling, at least I noticed
it of those falling at all southwards, took a pitch to the left halfway
through their flight. The kitchen boys came running with a great
todo to say something redhot had struck the meatsafe over the scullery
door with a great noise and falling into the yard gone into several
pieces. No authentic fragment was found but Br. Hostage^ saw marks
of burning on the safe and the slightest of dints as if made by a soft
body, so that if anything fell it was probably a body of gas, Fr. Perryz
thought. It did not appear easy to give any other explanation than a
meteoric one. Br. Starkey^ saw and heard also but was odd and close
about it '
Grandmamma has kept her 87th birthday. Uncle Dick^ is dead \
Dec. 1 2 — A Blandyke. Hard frost, bright sun, a sky of blue ‘wati^’.
On the fells with Mr. Lucas.® Parlick Pike and that ridge ruddy with
fern and evening light. Ground sheeted with taut tattered streaks of cri^
gritty snow. Green-white tufts of long bleached grass like heads of hair
or the crowns of heads of hair, each a whorl of slender curves, one tuft
taking up another — however these I might have noticed any day. I
saw the inscape though freshly, as if my eye were still growing, though
with a companion the eye and the ear are for the most part shut and
instress cannot come. We started pheasants and a grouse with flicker-
ing wings. On the slope of the far side under the trees the fern looked
ginger-coloured over the snow. When there was no snow and dark
greens about, as I saw it just over the stile at the top of the Forty- Acre
the other day, it made bats and splinters of smooth caky road-rut-colour
Dec. 19 — Under a dark sky walking by the river at Brockennook.
There all was sad-coloured and the colour caught the eye, red and blue
stones in the river beaches brought out by patches of white-blue snow,
that is/ snow quite white and dead but yet it seems as if some blue or
lilac screen masked it somewhere between it and the eye ; I have often
noticed it. The swells and hillocks of the river sands and the fields were
sketched and gilded out by frill upon frill of snow — they must be seen :
this is only to shew which way the
curve lies. Where the snow lies as in
a field the damasking of white light
and silvery shade may be watched
indeed till brightness and glare is all lost in a perplexity of shadow and
in the whitest of things the sense of white is lost, but at a shorter gaze
I see two degrees in it — the darker, facing the sky, and the lighter in
^he tiny cliffs or scarps where the snow is broken or raised into ridges,
these catching the sun perhaps or at all event more directly hitting the
eye and gilded with an arch brightness, like the sweat^ in the moist
hollow between the eyebrows and the eyelids on a hot day or in the
way the light of a taper Tommy was screening with his hand the other
JOURNAL (1872) 3ag
morning in the dark refectory struck out the same shells of the eyes
and the cleft of the nostrils and flat of the chin and tufts on the cheeks
in gay leaves of gold
Dec. 23 — ^To Hampstead. There were pinings and remainders of
snow on the hills as far as Macclesfield as on Pendle and Whalley Nab.
Southwards floodwater was out. Here and in many parts of the country
there have been great rains and gales have been everywhere. Some-
where in Cambridgeshire there was flood as far as the eye could reach.
The weather is very mild. — As far as Stafford I travelled with Mr.
Shapter’s' brother
Christmas Day — Cyril and Harriet and Aunt Kate with her chil-
dren came up to dinner
Dec. 30 — I underwent an operation^ by Mr. Gay and Mr. Prance,
It lasted half an hour and yet it seemed to me about ten minutes.
Afterwards I was a fortnight in bed. Br. CampbelP and Br. Henry
Marchant'^ from Roehampton and Addis and Wood and Baillie and
Edward Bond came to see me. Wood told me the particulars of
Poutiatine’s death last summer. He wanted to marry a Greek girl a
doctor’s daughter. The Admiral disapproved because of the inequality
of rank but his opposition seems to have been more or less got over.
But Poutiatine’s own doctor said the marriage was impossible on the
score of his health. The girl’s father, as if with authority being himself
a doctor, treated this as a shift to get off' the match, the girl herself
seems to have fallen in with her family, and they gave Poutiatine who
was in the same hotel in Paris, so much annoyance that he took to
flight for Strasburg where the Admiral was, leaving even his luggage.
He did not go to the usual station but to the terminus of the Northern
railway, no doubt to throw them off the scent, for at some distance
from Paris he could by a junction get onto the line for Strasburg. Now
at this junction, I think it was, he got out and it is likely he meant to
have walked some way on and taken the train or a later train further
on upon the line but he turned the wrong way and walked towards
Paris. This mistake Wood and Gladstone,^ who went to the place to
ascertain, found was easy to make by daylight, much more in the
dark. His dead body was found in a pool or horse- or cattle-trough by
the roadside only a few feet deep. His hat was on the bank. They think
from this that he had stooped to drink, been seized with a fit, and
fallen in — or fallen in and been seized with a fit. But this is hard to
understand. The bank was steep on the side he fell in from and two
others but on the fourth there was a slope for the beast to go down by.
f he pool, as I have said, was quite shallow. On his body was found a
cross. His name they could find nowhere but in his boots and for some
dme they thought it was the maker’s. Wood and Gladstone convinced
themselves it was not suicide
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JOURNAL (1873)
The weather while I was in bed, a fortnight, was very mild except
for gales and still is Jan. 18, 1873. "The elms are hung and beaded with
round buds and many trees have the Spring smoky claret colour
Jan. 19— Lightning at night. There was a thunderstorm at Black-
burn and in Paris a great storm and waterspout
Jan. 20, 21— To the Old Masters exhibition* at Burlington House
At the end of the month frost
Jan. 21— To Roehampton, and the next morning Fr. Gallwcy sent
me to see Fincham^
Feb. 2— Snow— and all delicately turreled in the wind
Feb. 4— To Stonyhurst, where the weather was mild. They had fed
however about a fortnight’s skating and the ice was on the pond \
Feb. 9— Began a triduum^
Feb. 23— Hard frost and heavy snow
Feb. 24 — In the snow flat-topped hillocks and shoulders outlined
with wavy edges, ridge below ridge, very like the grain of wood in line
and in projection like relief maps. These the wind makes I think and
of course drifts, which are in fact snow waves. The sharp nape of a
drift is sometimes broken by slant flutes or channels. I think this must
be when the wind after shaping the drift first has changed and cast
waves in the body of the wave itself. All the world is full of inscape
and chance^ left free to act falls into an order as well as purpose:
looking out of my window I caught it in the random clods and broken
heaps of snow made by the cast of a broom. The same of the path
trenched by footsteps in ankledeep snow across the fields leading to
Hodder wood through which we went to see the river. The sun was
bright, the broken brambles and all boughs and banks limed and
cloyed with white, the brook down the dough pulling its way by drops
and by bubbles in turn under a shell of ice
In March there was much snow
April 8 — The ash tree growing in the corner of the garden was felled.
It was lopped first: I heard the sound and looking out and seeing
it maimed there came at that moment a great pang and I wished
to die and not to see the inscapes of the world destroyed any more
April 17 — ^To Whitewell with Mr. Clarke.^ Saw a shoal of salmon
in the river and many hares on the open hills. Under a stone hedge
was a dying ram: there ran slowly from his nostril a thick flesh-
coloured ooze, scarlet in places, coiling and roping its way down, so
thick that it looked like fat
Later — on Jeffrey hill at the cairn. Magnetic weather, sunlight soft
and bright, colours of fells and fields far off seeming as if dipped in
watery blue
The weather became cold. April 24 snowstorm. The birds clucked
and scurried away under bushes
23 *
JOURNAL (1873)
After a drought/ at the end of the month rain
May 1 1 — ^Bluebells in Hodder wood, all hanging their heads one
way. I caught as well as I could while my companions talked the
Greek rightness of their beauty, the lovely/ what people call/ ‘gracious’
bidding one to another or all one way, the level or stage or shire of
colour they make hanging in the air a foot above the grass, and a
notable glare the eye may abstract and sever from the blue colour/
of light beating up from so many glassy heads, which like water is
good to float their deeper instress in upon the mind
May 12 — ‘Under the blossom that hangs on the bow’: cherry
blossom for instance hangs down in tufts and tassels under the bough
that bears it
May 15 — ^Arthur married to Rebecca Bockett.* I heard from them
at Folkestone, a two-handed letter
At this time weather very cold, on May 18 snow and on Pendle
lying
End of May — There is a great crying of corncrakes at night
May 30 — ^The swifts round and scurl under the clouds in the sky :
light streamers were about ; the swifts seemed rather to hang and be
at rest and to fling these away row by row behind them like spokes of a
lighthung wheel
June 5 etc — The turkey and hens will let a little chick mount their
backs and sit between the wings
June 15 — Sunday after Corpus Christi. Some of us went to Billing-
ton to join in their procession. Mr. Lucas was with me. The day was
very beautiful. A few streamer clouds and a grapy yellowing team
moving along the horizon. At the ferry a man said ‘Hast a penny,
Tom ?’ — the old ferry was below the rocks
June 16 — Still brighter and warmer, southern-like. Shadows sharp
in the quarry and on the shoulders of our two young white pigeons.
There is some charm about a thing such as these pigeons or trees when
they dapple their boles in wearing its own shadow. I was on the fells
with Mr. Strappini. They were all melled and painted with colour
and full of roaming scents, and winged silver slips of young brake
rising against the light trim and symmetrical and gloried from within
reminded me of I do not remember what detail of coats of arms, per-
haps the lilies of Eton College. Meadows smeared yellow with butter-
cups and bright squares of rapefield in the landscape. Fine-weather
iules of cloud. Napkin folds brought out on the Parlick ridge and cap-
lulls of shadow in them. A cuckoo flew by with a little bird after it as
we lay by the quarry at Kemble End
As 1 passed the stables later and stayed to look at the peacocks John
Myerscough came out to shew me a brood of little peafowl (though it
could not be found at that time) and the kindness touched my heart
JOURNAL (1873)
I looked at the pigeons down in the kitchen yard and so on. They
look like little gay jugs by shape when they walk, strutting and jod-
jodding with their heads. The two young ones are all white and the pins
of the folded wings, quill pleated over quill, are like crisp and shapely
cuttleshells found on the shore. The others are dull thundercolour or
black-grape-colour except in the white pieings, the quills and tail, and
in the shot of the neck. I saw one up on the eaves of the roof : as it
moved its head a crush of satin green came and went, a wet or soft
flaming of the light
Sometimes I hear the cuckoo with wonderful clear and plump and
fluty notes : it is when the hollow of a rising ground conceives them
and palms them up and throws them out, like blowing into a big
humming ewer — for instance under Saddle Hill one beautiful day aitd
another time from Hodder wood when we walked on the other side 6f
the river
In the evening the triduum began
June 19 — Mr. Ratcliff drove off
June 20 — Feast of the Sacred Heart and renovation of vows
June 23 — I was examined de universa philosophia
June 24 — Camps of yellow flagflower blowing in the wind, which
curled over the grey sashes of the long leaves
June 25 — At two minutes to ten at night a greenish white meteor
fell with a slow curve from right to left between this and Pendle over
Mitton. I judged so because it seemed to pass this side of the crest of
the hill but only a little way and then disappeared, so that perhaps I
might be mistaken
It was* a firework, for I saw just such another but not falling so far
another night at just the same time. But its seeming to pass the crest
of Pendle is curious. It may be because the eye taking up the well-
marked motion and forestalling it carrys the bright scape of the present
and past motion (which lasts J of a second, they say) on to a part of the
field where the motion itself has not or will not come
June 30 — I went to teach the School of Rhetoric* at the College in
Mr. Sidney Smith’s^ absence, while he was with some of his boys who
were gone to Manchester to matriculate, and I taught six days
July 2 — ^The college watchman said ‘Til put on my shoon and let
thee out’ ^
About this time I had a kind letter from Mr.^Gay
July 10 — ^The Rector’s day. Fr. Gallwey appointed provincial
July 12 — ^Went to see Mr. Scriven, who is dying of consumption
July 17 — Provincial’s day. Mr. Vaughan^ took off Cornelius the
philosopher’s servant — ‘a-bullockin’, ay and a-bullyraggin’ teoo’, that
is bullying, using abusive words ; also (as I heard afterwards) how the
Queen told the Shah when he wanted one of his courtier’s heads struck
JOURNAL (1873) 233
off for bad horsemanship at Windsor that he had better not coon ahn,
that road
July 18 — ^Bright, with a high wind blowing the crests of the trees
before the sun and fetching in the blaze and dousing it again. In parti-
cular. there was one light raft of beech which the wind footed and
strained on, ruffling the leaves which came out in their triplets threaded
round with a bright brim like an edge of white ice, the sun sitting at
one end of the branch in a pash of soap-sud-coloured gummy bim-
beams rowing over the leaves but sometimes flaring out so as to let a
blue crust or platter from quite the quick of the orb sail in the eye
July 20 — ^Water high at Hodder Roughs; where lit from within
looking like pale gold, elsewhere velvety brown like ginger syrop;
heavy locks or brushes like shaggy rope-ends rolling from a corner of
the falls and one huddling over another ; below the rock the bubble-
jestled skirt of foam jumping back against the fall, which cuts its way
clean and will not let it through, and there spitting up in long white
ragged shots and bushes like a mess of thongs of bramble, and I saw
by looking over nearer that those looping watersprigs that lace and
dance and jockey in the air are strung of single drops, the end one, like
a tassel or a heavier bead, the biggest ; they look like bubbles in a quill.
When the air caught at the sill of the fall a sour yellow light flushed
underneath like smoke kindling all along the rock, with a sullen noise
which we thought was thunder till someone pointed out the cause, and
this happened, I noticed, when one of the bladders or blisters that
form and come bumping to the top in troubled water sailed over the
falls
July 22 — ^Very hot, though the wind, which was south, dappled very
sweetly on one’s face and when I came out I seemed to put it on like a
gown as a man puts on the shadow he walks into and hoods or hats
himself with the shelter of a roof, a penthouse, or a copse of trees, I
mean it rippled and fluttered like light linen, one could feel the folds
and braids of it — and indeed a floating flag is like wind visible and what
weeds are in a current ; it gives it thew and fires it and bloods it in. —
Thunderstorm in the evening, first booming in gong-sounds, as at
Aosta, as if high up and so not reechoed from the hills ; the lightning
very slender and nimble and as if playing very near but after supper
it was so bright and terrible some people said they had never seen its
like. People were killed, but in other parts of the country it was more
violent than with us. Flashes lacing two clouds above or the cloud and
the earth started upon the eyes in live veins of rincing or riddling
liquid white, inched and jagged as if it were the shivering of a bright
riband string which had once been kept bound round a blade and
danced back into its pleatings. Several strong thrills of light followed
the flash but a grey smother of darkness blotted the eyes if they
234
JOURNAL (1873)
had seen the fork, also dull furry thickened scapes of it were left in
them
July 24 — Blandyke. Mr. Colley* and I crossed the river at
Hacking boat, went up the fell opposite near the Nab, walked some
way, and coming down at Billington recrossed at the Troughs and so
home. But the view was dim. A farmer on the other side at the Troughs
talked of the driver of the mower (he had one) ‘a-peerkin’ on the seat*,
being p)erched on the seat, and said the hay was to be ‘shaked*. The
ferryman told us how in the hot days working in the hay he had
‘Supped beer till’ he ‘could sup no more’
July 28 — Haymaking still going on
Arthur and Rebecca came but I did not see them till next day,
when I took them over the college \
July 30 — Mr. Scriven died at halfpast ten in the morning. In thle
night he had a great struggle in which he started up in bed and caught
hold of the Rector with both hands. Afterwards he was calm. He
offered up his life for the Society. It was thought providential that he
died on the eve of St. Ignatius
I took Arthur and Rebecca to see Ree Deep and Lambing Clough
Aug. I — To Derby Castle at Douglas as last year
Aug. 5 — Up Snae Fell with Mr. Shapter. You can see from it the
three kingdoms. The day was bright ; pied skies. On the way back we
saw eight or perhaps ten hawks together
Aug. 7 — Baron von HiigeF came to say goodbye to us
Aug. 8 — ^Wan white sea with a darker edge on the skyline, very
calm. At sunset from above it looked milky blue with blue cording of
waves. Sunset fine — spokes of dusty gold ; long wing of brownish
cloud warping/ in the perspective. I marked well how the sea fell over
from the other side of the bay, Fort Hillion^ and the lighthouse, to the
cliff’s foot, quite like the rounding of a waterfall
Aug. 9 — Mackerel fishing but not much s]X)rt. Besides I was in pain
and could not look at things much. When the fresh-caught fish flounced
in the bottom of the boat they made scapes of motion, quite as strings
do, nodes and all, silver bellies upwards — something
thus. Their key markings do not correspond on the two
sides of the backbone. They changed colour as they lay.
There was sun and wind. I saw the waves to seaward
frosted with light silver surf but did not find out much,
afterwards from the cliffs I saw the sea paved with wind
— clothed and purpled all over with ribbons of wind
Aug. 10. — Some yellow spoons came up with the tumblers after
dinner. Somebody said they were brass and I tasted them to find out
and it seemed so. Some time afterwards as I came in from a stroll with
Mr. Purbrick^ he told me Hiigel had said the scarlet or rose colour of
JOURNAL (1873) 235
flamingos was found to be due to a fine copper powder on the
feathers. As he said this I tasted the brass in my mouth. It is what
they call unconscious cerebration, a bad phrase
Aug. 12 — ^We made an expedition to North Barrule or rather to the
inn at its foot and then dispersed. Mr. Gillett and I went down to the
sea and bathed in a little shingly bay, where above the beach there
stretches a small plain of grass flooded by the springtides, through
which the brook runs to the sea. We passed the beautiful little mill-
hamlet of Balaglas in the glen and started a shining flight of doves to
settle on the roof. There is a green rich thickleaved alder by the bridge
and ashes and rocks maroon-red below water up the glen. When we
were back there we turned aside to follow the brook up under groves
of beech and Spanish chestnut. The rock is limestone, smooth and
pale white, not rough and gritty, and without moss, stained red where
the water runs and smoothly and vertically hewed by the force of the
brook into highwalled channels with deep pools. The water is so clear
in the still pools it is like shadowy air and in the falls the white is not
foamed and chalky, as at Stonyhurst, but like the white of ice or glass.
Round holes are scooped in the rocks smooth and true like turning :
they look like the hollow of a vault or bowl. I saw and sketched* as well
as in the rain I could one of them that was in the making : a blade of
water played on it and shaping to it spun off making a bold big white
bow coiling its edge over and splaying into ribs. But from the position
it is not easy to see how the water could in this way have scooped all of
them. I jumped into one of the pools above knee deep and it was
raining besides ; so to keep warm, when we reached the high road I
turned towards Douglas and let them overtake me. We got home in
heavy wet and Mr. Sidgreaves covered me under his plaid
Aug. 14 — Walking along the cliffs towards Growdle, Sun and wind ;
sea dark blue, yet one can always see the dimness in the air shed upon
the offing and stealing the distant waves. Painted white cobbled foam
tumbling over the rocks and combed away off their sides again. The
water-ivybush^, that plucked and dapper cobweb of glassy grey down,
swung slack and jaunty on the in-shore water, plainer where there was
dark weed below and dimmer over bare rock or sand. — On the cliffs
fields of bleached grass, the same colour as the sheep they feed, then a
sleeve of liquid barleyfield, then another slip of bleached grass, above
that fleshy blue sky. Nearer at hand you see barley breathe and open
and shut and take two colours and swim
Aug, 1 6 — ^W e rose at four, when it was stormy and I saw duncoloure d
waves leaving trailing hoods of white breaking on the beach. Before
going I took a last look at the breakers, wanting to make out how the
comb is morselled so fine into string and tassel, as I have lately noticed
it to be. I saw big smooth flinty waves, carved and scuppled in shallow
236 JOURNAL (1873)
grooves, much swelling when the wind freshened, burst on the rocky
spurs of the cliff at the little cove and break into bushes of foam. In an
enclosure of rocks the peaks of the water romped and wandered and
a light crown of tufty scum standing high on the surface kept slowly
turning round : chips of it blew off and gadded about without weight
in the air. At eight we sailed for Liverpool in wind and rain. I think
it is the salt that makes rain at sea sting so much. There was a good-
looking young man on board that got drunk and sung T want to go
home to Mamma’. I did not look much at the sea : the crests I saw
ravelled up by the wind into the air in arching whips and straps of
glassy spray and higher broken into clouds of white and blown awa^.
Under the curl shone a bright juice of beautiful green. The foam eji^-
ploding and smouldering under water makes a chrysoprase greeii.
From Blackburn I walked : infinite stiles and sloppy fields, for there
has been much rain. A few big shining drops hit us aslant as if they
were blown off from eaves or leaves. Bright sunset ; all the sky hung
with tall tossed clouds, in the west with strong printing glass edges,
westward lamping with tipsy bufflight, the colour of yellow roses.
Parlick ridge like a pale goldish skin without body. The plain about
Clitheroe was sponged out by a tall white storm of rain. The sun itself
and the spot of ‘session’ dappled with big laps and flowcrs-in-damask
of cloud. But we hurried too fast and it knocked me up. We went to
the College, the seminary being wanted for the secular priests’ retreat :
almost no gas, for the retorts are being mended ; therefore candles in
bottles, things not ready, darkness and despair. In fact being unwell
I was quite downcast : nature in all her parcels and faculties gaped and
fell dipart^fatiscehat, like a clod cleaving and holding only by strings of
root. But this must often be
We found the German Divines from Ditton Hall* with their rector
and professors spending their villa at the college. — Fr. George Porter*
is new master of novices
Aug. 1 7 — ^The Germans gave us a concert and again on the i gth, I
think, and we a return with Jokes of various kinds on the 2 1 st^
Aug. 22 — ^We went back to the Seminary
Aug. 27 — Farewell concert from the Germans, who went back to
Ditton next day. They were kind, amiable, and edifying people. Some
of us went down to Whalley with them and afterwards I walked with
Herbert Lucas by the river and talked Scotism with him for the last
time. In the evening I received orders to go to Roehampton^ to teach
rhetoric and started next morning early, by Preston, travelling to town
with Vaughan and Considine, who were bound for Beaumont. At Man-
resa I caught the Provincial who spoke most kindly and encouragingly
Aug. 30-Sept. 8 — Retreat, of which there are notes in my medita-
tion papers.® I received as I think a great mercy about Dolben^
JOURNAL (1873) 337
Sept. 8 — Mr, Madoughlen was here on his way from Laval.* I
talked to Br. Duffy ploughing : he told me the names of the cross,
side-plate, muzzle, regulator, and short chain. He talked of something
spraying out, meaning splaying out and of combing the ground
There was a beautiful vizor of white cloud over the sunrise, the
highest bow, which overswept and outlined the whole, carried upon a
grate of upward waving slips ; the sun below in a golden mess. And
from the same window the full moon at night in a palecoloured
heartsease made of clouds
The early part of the month was cold
This day Uncle Charles was married to ‘Helena Marian, only d. of
Mark Goindet de Marcichy, late Captain in the Swiss Cavalry’
Sept. 14 — ^There are really toadstool rings in the big pasture before
the house, some very big, but whether fairy rings have been or will be
there I cannot tell. They are not so complete nor so symmetrical as
fairy rings but a little indented into loops. The grass inside them is, I
think, dark and rank but outside for a few inches colourless and dead,
white or grey as if dusty, not healthily tanned like hay but as if fagged,
drained, and baked
Sharp showers; long mountains of big happed-up snow-white
thundercloud, glossed with silvery shadows, and a gay dazzling in-
visible blue light playing on them
I counted in a bright rainbow two, perhaps three/ complete octaves,
that is/ three, perhaps four/ strikings of the keynote or nethermost red,
counting from the outermost red rim: this of course is quite inde-
pendent of a double rainbow, which this also happened to be
Sept. 18 — ^At the Kensington Museum.^ Bold masterly rudeness of
the blue twelvemonth service of plates or platters by Luca Della
Robbia — Giovanni’s (1260) and Niccola (early in next century)
Pisano’s pulpits — Bronze gilt doors for Cathedral of Florence by ? —
The cartoons and a full sized chalk drawing from the Transfiguration
— Standard portfolios of Indian architecture — also of Michael Angelo’s
paintings at the Vatican : the might, with which I was more deeply
struck than ever before, though this was in the dark side courts and I
could not see well, seems to come not merely from the simplifying and
then amplifying or emphasising of parts but from a masterly realism
in the simplification, both these things ; there is the simplifying and
strong emphasising of anatomy in Rubens, the emphasising and great
simplifying in Raphael for instance, and on the other hand the realism
in Velasquez, but here force came together from both sides — ^Thought
niore highly of Mulready than ever before — Watts: Two sisters and a
couple of Italian peasants with a yoke of oxen — instress of expression
in the faces, as in other characteristic English work, Burne Jones’,
Mason’s, Walker’s etc — Musical instruments^ — harpsichords (English
JOURNAL (1873)
for clavecin) ; spinets (small portable harpsichords) ; virginals (square,
differing from spinet, which is three-cornered like the harpsichord as
cottage piano from grand) ; dulcimers
(this-shaped
lutes; theorbos; (viols, I think, differ from lutes in having slacks,
hollows, in the sides, so as to be the original of the violin) ; mandolas
and mandolines (small lutes, I think) ; viol-de-gambois (held between
the knees) ; citherns ; panduras
Yes, the viol is the origin of the violin. It has been thought the parent
of all the viol family is the Welsh erwth. The name looks against this.
They are characterised by the bridge and the use of the bow. The vdbl
has 5 strings. Another day at the Kensington I made some notes. Tt\e
lute is round-bottomed and has frets — ^Fetis* says 10 and 1 1 strings, ^
of them double, 3 tuned in unison and 6 in octaves. The theorbo I
have noted to have the neck very much put back, two sets of pegs
(Fetis says it has 2 fingerboards, the smaller that of the lute, the other,
much bigger, with 8 strings for the bass — but my note says it has no
frets). The pandora again I have marked as round-bottomed: Fetis
says it differs from the lute in being flat and having metal instead of
catgut strings. The mandola is round-bottomed, with frets : Fetis says
it has 4 strings ‘tuned from 5ths to 4ths’. The mandoline he says is
smaller and with a fingerboard like a guitar, played with a quill, and
the strings tuned in unison with the violin. The cither is very like the
guitar, flat-bottomed, with frets
I had a nightmare that night. I thought something or someone
leapt onto me and held me quite fast : this I think woke me, so that
after this I shall have had the use of reason. This first start is, I think,
a nervous collapse of the same sort as when one is very tired and hold-
ing oneself at stress not to sleep yet/ suddenly goes slack and seems to
fall and wakes, only on a greater scale and with a loss of muscular
control reaching more or less deep; this one to the chest and not
further, so that I could speak, whispering at first, then louder — for the
chest is the first and greatest centre of motion and action, the seat of
dvfjios. I had lost all muscular stress elsewhere but not sensitive, feeling
where each limb lay and thinking that I could recover myself if I
could move my finger, I said, and then the arm and so the whole body.
The feeling is terrible ; the body no longer swayed as a piece by the
nervous and muscular instress seems to fall in and hang like a dead
weight on the chest. I cried on the holy name and by degrees recovered
myself as I thought to do. It made me think that this was how the
souls in hell would be imprisoned in their bodies as in prisons and of
what St. Theresa says of the ‘little press in the wall’ where she felt
herself to be in her vision
Sept. 22 — ^The schools began
JOURNAL (1873) 239
About this time it was announced that Mr. Ratcliff and Mr. Potter
had left the Society
Sept. 26 — ^Weather has been bright but yesterday was brilliant.
Some of our trees make a great gate* opening over the park — two
poplars for posts ; on the left is the tallest of the cedars of more upright,
less horizontal/ habit than the others, hive-shaped but set to one side
by the wind ; then, taller, the poplar beautifully touched with leaf
against the sky and below these a tree with a mesh of leaves leaning
away, beech and what not ; here the break and distant oaks on a height
in the park ; then the other poplar, more gaunt and part strung and
dead, and again other trees lower — Spanish chestnut and Turkey oak.
Almost no colour ; the cedar laying level crow-feather strokes of boughs,
with fine wave and dedication in them, against the light. The sun just
above, a shaking white fire or waterball, striking and glan ting*. Blue of
the sky round and below changed to a pale burning flesh. — One of the
wychelms in the field between is just shaped in under a branch of a
near cedar, its boughs coming and going towards one another in
caressed curve and combing
This morning. Sept. 27, blue mist breathing with wind across the
garden after mass. Noticed how everything looked less and nearer, not
bigger and spacious in the fog. Tops of the trees hidden almost or where
seen grey, till the sun threw a moist red light through them. Two
beautiful sights : printed upon the sun, a glowing silver piece, came out
the sharp visible leafage of invisible trees, on either side nothing what-
ever could be seen of them, and these leaves handful for handful,
changed as I walked ; the other was splays of shadow-spokes struck out
from any knot of leaves or boughs where the sun was/ like timbers
across the thick air
Oct. 1 7 — ^Woodpigeons come in flock into our field and on our trees :
they flock at this time of year
A doe comes to our sunken fence to be fed: she eats acorns and
chestnuts and stands on the bank, a pretty triped, forefeet together
and hind set apart. The bucks grunt all night at this season and fight
often : it is their season
At the end of the month hard frosts. Wonderful downpour of leaf:
when the morning sun began to melt the frost they fell at one touch
and in a few minutes a whole tree was flung of them ; they lay masking
and papering the ground at the foot. Then the tree seems to be
looking down on its cast self as blue sky on snow after a long fall, its
losing, its doing
White poplar leaves at this season silver behind, olive black in front.
Birch leaves on a fading tree give three colours, green, white, and
yellow
* Thus in MS.
840 JOURNAL (1873-4)
Fine sunset Nov. 3 — ^Balks of grey cloud searched with long crim-
sonings running along their hanging folds — this from the lecture room
window. A few minutes later the brightness over ; one great dull rope
coiling overhead sidelong from the sunset, its dewlaps and bellyings
painted with a maddery campion-colour that seemed to stoop and
drop like sopped cake ; the further balk great gutterings and ropings,
gilded above, jotted with a more bleeding red beneath and then a
juicy tawny ‘clear’ below, which now is glowing orange and the full
moon is rising over the house
Nov. 12 — Fine; elmleaves very crisp and chalky and yellow, a
scarlet brightness against the blue. Sparks of falling leaves streamtiing
down and never stopping from far off \
Dec. I — Our first ‘menstruum’*
Some sharp frosts, frosting on trees and cobwebs like fairyland, is
Fr. MacCleod^ said. After that very mild
Dec. 18 — ^To Beaumont to see an Academy. — Felling of trees going
on sadly at Roehampton
Xmas Day — ^To Hampstead for a week
During the time I went with Arthur to the winter exhibition of the
Water Colours. Walker’s^ Harbour of Refuge^ smaller watercolour
reproduction of the oilpainting in the Academy for ’72 : that sold for
3(^1500, this for 3^1000. Execution rough, the daisies and may brought
out by scratching and even rudely, but perhaps this is more lasting
than Chinese white. The sunset sky and boughs of tree against it most
rude, yet true and effective enough — at a distance, though this seemed
inconsistent, for the details of the faces needed to be looked at close.
When I wrote these notes my memory was a little duller. The young
man mowing was a great stroke, a figure quite made up of dew and
grace and strong fire : the sweep of the scythe and swing and sway of
the whole body even to the rising of the one foot on tiptoe while the
other was flung forward was as if such a thing had never been painted
before, so fresh and so very strong. In contrast the young girl with the
old woman on her arm with an enforced languor in her ; in face the
same type as Catherine Beamish in the Village on the Cliff, very pensive
and delicate and sweet; auburn hair; beautiful, rather full, hands,
crossed ; a pretty clever halo of a cap. The background of the long line
of almshouse rather heavy and inartistic : there„&eems to remain in his
work a clod of rawness not wrought into perfect art, which in a French-
man would not be
There was^ also a pretty medieval ploughing-scene by Pinwell* and
some good things by Macbeth,^ also a masterly little thing, the Flute-
player, Roman of course, by Alma Tadema*^
Feb. 13 — The Provincial’s day. Skating. But before this weather
very mild and the skating did not last
JOURNAL (1874J 241
Br. Scanlan, who was a pupil of mine that six days I was at the
College at Stonyhurst, died lately at Brighton. He insisted on wearing
his gown to the last
At this time the elections for the new parliament were going on :
there was a great Conservative reaction. The Lord Chief Justice
(Cockburn) was summing up in the Titchborne case.* The Univers
was in a two-months’ suppression for publishing a pastoral by one of
the bishops containing political passages : it was thought Bismarck
had insisted on it with the threat of immediate war
Feb. 16 — ^To the Soane Museum with Fr. Goldie. His uncle Mr.
Bonomi^ is curator and we had been to call on him at Wandsworth at
‘the Camels’ one day but he was not this day at the museum. I was
most interested by the gems^ — one especially in a two-coloured stone,
perhaps onyx : in the midst a ramshorn completely relieved ; then in
white, like cameo a fourfold head, two female faces, back to back like
a sh e-Janus, the long way of the stone, which was oval; above them
along the crown, their common crown, looking up like a mask put
back from the right-hand face, a man’s face — these three delicately
featured ; below, across the neck, looking down, a snub Silenus’ face,
the hair in crisp peaked and shapen flamelet-texture, somewhat
Alexandrine ; the ground or field same colour as the horn
We also visited the National Gallery.^ Especial notice (to be re-
newed, I hope) of two new Michael Angelos not seen before : touches
of hammer-realism in the Entombment (also a touch of imperfection
or archaism) and masterly inscape of drapery in the other — ^But
Mantegna’s inscaping of drapery (in the grisaille Triumph of Scipio
and the Madonna with saints by a scarlet canopy) is, I think, un-
equalled, it goes so deep
One day later I went to hear the Lord Chief Justice summing up in
the Titchborne case. I was pleased to find how simple and everyday,
not undignified though, his manner was
On Feb. 28 — ^The Claimant was condemned to 14 years imprison-
ment. At the same time the Garlists seemed likely to succeed, for
Morionez had been defeated with loss of 3000 men, the news coming
this day
March 1 — ^Wood came to see me and Fr. Porter. Shortly after
Easter he was married to a Miss Fulton of Bath
March 2 — Entry of Duke and Duchess of Edinburgh into London.
— The same day Lionel set sail for Peking
Great famine in Bengal
Very windy at the equinox, more than usual
April 6 — Sham fight® on the Common, 7000 men, chiefly volunteers,
^ent up in the morning to get an impression but it was too soon,
however got this — caught that inscape in the horse that you see in the
R
242 JOURNAL (1874)
pediment especially and other basreliefs of the Parthenon and even
which Sophocles had felt and expresses in two choruses of the Oedipus
Coloneus,^ running on the likeness of a horse to a breaker, a wave of the
sea curling over. I looked at the groin or the flank and saw how the
set of the hair symmetrically flowed outwards from it to all parts of
the body, so that, following that one may inscape the whole beast very
simply. — They kept firing the furze — brown-ambery flames, waving
in grasslines and leaping off in laces and tatters, landscape sweating
through gadroons and turbulent liquid vapour as through bullseye
glass, burnt twigs flying. Would have gone again in the afternoon, only
Mr. Hunnybun and a friend called : however we did stand outside our
gate and saw the march past and an unsheathing of swords by some
cavalry, which is a stirring naked-steel lightning bit of business, I thVik
April 9 — To Kensington museum^ with Br. Tournade the youhg
Frenchman bound for China. Looked at a Graeco-Roman statue of
Melpomene : these Greek gowns are of linen which makes crisp pleat-
like folds; I marked especially how on the bosom the folds were
sprayed like slips of rue or some slenderer-leaved herb, severe and
beautiful. — There was a shew of beautiful Japanese work, modern,
from which one gathers that their art is very flourishing : there was a
capital fight between a night-hawk and a dragon on a gilded platter;
ivory relief, I don’t know how to call the work, but it was, I think, by
cutting out certain beds or fields and in them relieving the figures
(incised work?), which gives rather precision to the whole than simple
relief and then further heightening, on one side only, the edges of the
figures within the fields or dies or else the edges, cliffs/ of these dies
with Indian ink, which gives great finish ; also there were complete
soldiers’ accoutrements with masks for the face, which shewed the type
of features and that was ugly
I made^ the following notes on gems — Beryl/ watery green; car-
nelian/ strong flesh red, Indian red; almandine/ purplish red;
chalcedony/ some/ milky blue, some/ opalescent blue-green, some/
blue-green with sparkles, some/ dull yellow green, dull olive, lilac,
white; jacinth/ brownish red, dull tawny scarlet; chrysoprase/
beautiful half- transparent green, some/ dull with dark cloudings;
sardonyx/ milky blue flake in brown ; topaz/ white, madder, sherry-
colour, yellow, pale blue, wallflower red ; ‘dark sard’ seemed purplish
black; jaspar (or chalcedony)/ dull flesh brown; chrysolith/ bluish
with yellow gleam or vice versa, also pale yellow-green, also yellow-^
transparent ; cymophane/ beautiful stone and name
April 1 1 halfpast 1 1 at night (?) Rebecca of a daughter!
Uncle James^ is dying
April 20 — Young elmleaves lash and lip the sprays. This has been a
very beautiful day— -fields about us deep green lighted underneath
JOURNAL (1874) 2^3
with white daisies, yellower fresh green of leaves above which bathes
the skirts of the elms, and their tops are touched and worded with leaf
too. Looked at the big limb of that elm that hangs over into the Park
at the swinggate/ further out than where the leaves were open and
saw beautiful inscape, home-coiling wiry bushes of spray, touched
with bud to point them. Blue shadows fell all up the meadow at sunset
and then standing at the far Park corner my eye was struck by such a
sense of green in the tufts and pashes of grass, with purple shadow
thrown back on the dry black mould behind them, as I do not remem-
ber ever to have been exceeded in looking at green grass. I marked this
down on a slip of paper at the time, because the eye for colour, rather
the zest in the mind, seems to weaken with years, but now the paper
is mislaid
April 25, Saturday, eve of the Feast of St. Joseph’s Patronage*
Br. Alexander Byrne died of rapid consumption. He was a novice but
had been one of my pupils
The beginning of May very cold and so on to the 14th, I think —
a mockery of bright sunshine day after day, no rain (Except that^ on
one day there was hail and then a little rain), wind always holding
from the north, dim blue skies, faint clouds, ashy frosts in the morn-
ings : saw young ivyleaves along the sunkfence bitten and blackened.
There was something of a break, with rain, but still now it is cold
(May 21)
May 7 — To Kew Gardens with Br. Campbell the Highlander and
Br. Younan a young Syrian from Calcutta. Did not see much but the
mandarin duck. The Old Palace though is a pretty picture — ruddled
red brick over a close-shaven green- white lawm. ; chestnuts in bloom
and a beech in a fairy spray of green
I see how chestnuts in bloom look like big seeded stawberries
May 1 7 — Bright. Took Br. Tournade to Combe Wood^ to see and
gather bluebells, which we did, but fell in bluehanded with a game-
keeper, which is a humbling thing to do. Then we heard a nightingale
utter a few strains — strings of very liquid gurgles
On the way home, from about 4.30 to 5 p.m. but no doubt longer,
were two taper tufts of vapour or cloud in shape like the tufts in
ermine, say, touched with red on the inside, bluish at the outer and
tapering end, stood on each side of the sun at the distance, I think, the
halo stands at and as if flying outward from the halo. The lefthand one
Was long- tailed and curved slightly upwards. They were not quite
diametrically opposite but a little above the horizontal diameter
and seemed to radiate towards the sun. I have seen the phenomenon
before
Piece of Irish from Br. Gartlan— ‘That bangs Bannagher and Ban'
nagher bangs the devil’
244 JOURNAL (1874)
Blight and sultry heat today May 22 and some thunder heard roll-
ing. Ground parched. Then a diunderstorm and after that the
nightingales singing at night
May 23 Dark, very heavy, fine rain. The change this morning was
not so much from temperate to warm as from cold to temperate, the
weather has been so wintry : I even got chilblains again
I went one day to the Academy' and again June 12, when Fr.
Johnson* (Superior in the absence of Fr, Porter, who is gone to take
the waters at Carlsbad^ in Bohemia) kindly sent me to town with Br.
Bampton^ for change. These are the notes on the two days —
Phillis on the new-mown hay (R. W. Macbeth®) — ^Very pretty but t|ie
Phillis a copy, a close gross copy in expression, gold red hair, circle of
cap, large shapely spread hands etc from the girl in Walker’s Harboiir
of Refuge
Briton Riviere’s^ Apollo (from Euripides) — Like a roughened
boldened Leighton, very fine. Leopards shewing the flow and slow
spraying of the streams of spots down from the backbone and making
this flow word-in and inscape the whole animal and even the group of
them; lion and lioness’s paws outlined and threaded round by a
touch of fur or what not, as one sees it in cats — ^very true broad
realism; herd of stags between firtrees all giving one inscape in the
moulding of their flanks and bodies and hollow shell of the horns
Queen of the Tournament — P. H. Calderon’ — Clear ; composition in the
pieces, the figures singly, not in the picture or piece in the old-
fashioned sense of piece ; clever frank treatment of bright armour. His
name is Spanish : I think there is something Spanish about him
Millais® — Scotch Firs: ‘ The silence that is in the lonely woods^ — No such
thing, instress absent, firtrunks ungrouped, four or so pairing but not
markedly, true bold realism but quite a casual install of woodland
with casual heathertufts, broom with black beanpods and so on, but
the master shewn in the slouch and toss-up of the firtree-head in near
background, in the tufts of fir-needles, and in everything. So too
Winter Fuel: '‘Bare ruined choirs^ etc — almost no sorrow of autumn ; a
rawness (though I felt this less the second time), unvelvety papery
colouring, especially in raw silver and purple birchstems, crude rusty
cartwheels, aimless mess or minglemangle of cut underwood in under-
your-nose foreground ; aimlessly posed truthful child on shaft of cart ;
but then most masterly Turner-like outline of craggy hill, silver-
streaked with birchtrees, which fielded in an equally masterly rust-
coloured young oak, with strong curl and seizure in the dead leaves.
There were two scales of colour in this picture — browns running to
scarlet (in the Red-Riding-Hood girl) and greys to blue (little girl’s
bow or something) and purple in the smoke on the hill, heather,
birchwoods, and in foreground the deep mouldy purple of the stems ;
JOURNAL (1874) 245
then for a gobetween a soft green meadow. There was a beautiful
spray-off of the dead oak-scrolls against dark trees behind with flowing
blue smoke above. Toss or dance of twig and light-wood hereabouts
North-West Passage — Characteristic ruffling — in grandfather’s coat,
girl’s skirts and rouckes, in chart and the creased flag. This picture
more unsatisfying than the others, want of arch-inscape even to scatter-
ing ; besides old sea-captain seemed crumpled together somehow
Young Nathaniel de Rothschild — ^Must be the very life — hair (just
bridled with a gilded curl or two), lips, eyes (Bidding^ in the hair,
eyebrows, and lips) crimson scarf, stride, embroidered bright-leather
shoes carried to a knifeblade edge and a little rising ; but then scape-
less aimless background of tapestry, a cannon, and so on, just like
him. Should be remarked how he makes his figures out into pieces
— scarlet turning of the coat collar, white waistcoat, red tie, face,
hair, scarf, breeches etc. So also in the Picture of Health the head,
curls on either side, green-blue butterfly of scarf, velvet coat, muff
Daydream — a Millais-Gainsborough most striking crossbreed :
colouring raw, blue handkerchief not any stuff in particular but
Reynolds’ emphatic drapery^ background (bushes and tank) either un-
finished or mere mud. Intense expression of face, expression of charac-
ter, not mood, true inscape — I think it could hardly be exceeded.
Features long, keeling, and Basque. The fall away of the cheek (it is a
I face) masterly. Great art in the slighted details of the hat on the lap,
blue of the bracelet, lace of scarf; fingers resting on or against one
another very true and original (see on Holman Hunt’s Shadow of
Death much the same thing)
Alma Tadema — Joseph overseer of PharaoKs granaries^ — Joseph in sort
of white linen toga, sceptre stained or painted like a lotus, black wig ;
merely antiquarian but excellent in that way
The Picture Gallery^ — Less antiquarian ; lighting just a little studio-
fashioned ; two Romans with check or patterned tunics like a snake’s
slough, the arm of one resting on the other’s shoulder very faithful
drawing; little colour; happy use of openings, accidental installs,
people’s feet, hands etc seen through; use of square scaping
1 saw also a good engraving of his Vintage Festival, which impressed
the thought one would gather also from Rembrandt in some measure
and from many great painters less than Rembrandt/ of a master of
scaping rather than of inscape. For vigorous rhetorical but realistic
and unaffected scaping holds everything but no arch-inscape is
thought of
Leighton — Moorish Garden: a dream of Granada^ — ^Whimsical little
girl, blown together of Andalusian afternoon air, leading a white and
a coloured peacock (its train brown in the light exhibited) ; brown and
green cypresses parcelled into flakes, which were truthfully slanted,
246 JOURNAL (1874)
trellised alley, rushing strezun down a marble channel, blue inlaid dome
in distance ; no central inscape either architecturally or in the figure
grouping — little girl should have transomed the trailing sweep of the
peacocks’ trains, as indeed their necks did but not markedly enough ;
however beautiful chord of blue and green ^ browns and reds
Old Damascus: Jews^ Quarter seemed to me the gem of the exhibition.
Marble paved striped court of house, striped pillar, delicately capi-
talled brace of corbel-pillars springing from the channelled half-
architrave Arab capital, vault of arch as well as heads or lintels of
doors covered with inlaid roundels of all sorts of designs, the nearest
arch however not in roundels but in more highly wrought arabescjlie
patterns. The child with her arms held straight out to hold up h^r
frock to catch the lemons gave a horizontal line carried on by some-
thing in the waist of the woman with the staff to knock them down and
perhaps by other things : don’t know whether he saw or meant this.
Woman in foreground rather aimless in pose and drapery and in fact
what is she doing with the slanted pot of pinks ? The lemon tree foliage
cleverly interfered with the braced window-lights. Clever rich shading
{aloXov) of the brown marble in the head of the two pairs of lights.
There was in the picture a luscious chord of colour (which grew on
me) — glaucous (blue, with green and purple sidings) X* browns (with
reds to match). In the green scale, which was part of the glaucous or
blue faction, were the lemontree, the duller-green striped and flowered
sort-of-dressing gown the flowerpot woman wore, her pinks, and the
bluer green flowerpot plants behind her; purple appeared in the
roundels ; in the blue scale, which was dominant or predominant in
the whole picture were the inlaid blue-panelled door, which struck the
keynote, and the panelling in the shade of the arches within the
some of the roundels, mosaics in the vault of the arch
etc, stripes on pillars on wall, stripes on pavement, and the lemon-
woman’s coat or mantle. In the red scale were the same woman’s scarf
and drawers, the child’s skirt, which was rosier, the flowers in the pots,
some mosaic and the brown marble framing of the braced windows, in
which, as I have said there was a beautiful flush of dark. The frame of
this picture was margaretted with round arabesques in black but after
much looking I did not find much inscape in them, though richness
and grace
Clytaemnestra watching the beaconfires — very smooth and waxen ; addled
cream-drapery, rhetorical, not recognised ; scaping in it ; moonlight
clear and white, without any exaggeration or sillybillying in blue and
bottleglass, delicately browning her arms ; face fine, scornful voluptuous
curl and all that (as it was really there must say so) ; behind tall-up
battlements, not massive
J. Brett* — Summer Noon in the Scilly Isles — Emerald and lazuli sea;
JOURNAL (1874) 247
true drawing of clouds ; sooty-mossed boulders in foreground a little
scratchy and overdry — not quite satisfying picture but scarcely to be
surpassed for realism in landscape
J. S. Raven^ — Let the hills be joyful together — Like what I have seen
of his before — grace of line and colour : the colour gathers in rosy or in
purple tufts and blooms ; trees, clouds, and mountaintops ‘seized’ or
‘shrugged’, as in Turner
W. L. Wylie^ — Goodwin Sands — ^Fiery truthful rainbow-end; green
slimy races of piers ; all clean, atmospheric, truthful, and scapish
Several Tissots^ — Atmosphere ; green and yellow chestnut leaves ;
atmospheric women in clouds of drapery with mooning-up eyes and
inooning-up nostrils of oddly curved noses: his interesting manage-
ment of modern costumes (as in the Ball on Shipboard) is very clever
but he should not have tried to paint Bluecoatboys’ yellow legs
Bright Japanese pictures are the rage. The best was Five O'clock
Tea by Mrs. Jopling^
W. Richmond’s^ Prometheus Bound — Fine ; academic in attitude and
colouring, as dark tinsel-blue sea, big moon, brown clouds; fine
anatomy
J. Parker^ — Phoebe Dawson and Abbey Stream, Abingdon — ^pretty and
Boyce-like
Maclaren^ (Uncle Edward’s friend at Capri) — Girls playing at
knuckle-bones — Much tone ; colouring quite (Italian) classical — black,
two siennas, green, blue (both Raphael-like), rosepink flowers,
bamboo-yellow fence, grey ground ; figures a little weak though and
flattened
A. S. Wortley® — In Wharncliffe Chace — Much sense of growth in bare
oaks and much cast (so I have written : I hardly understand it) in the
boulders
C. Green^ — May it please vour Majesty (a royal entry, burghers,
carpets etc) — Tone; projection; colour studio-muffled
H. Bource^® (?) — Day after the Tempest
H. Moore” — Rough weather in the Mediterranean — Fine wave-drawing ;
waves glass-blue and transparent with underlights. So also a coast-
scene with wave breaking, but there the moustache of foam running
before the wave or falling back to it seemed a little missed or muddled
Hughes” — Convent boat — Piecing and parting of the ivy, poplars,
and other trees attempted but not quite mastered
May 29 — Fr. Rector went to Carlsbad to take the waters. Fr.
Joseph Johnson came in his place
May 30, 31 (Trinity Sunday) — Bright, with wind dancing the coma,
lacy favours of the Turkey oaks
June 12 — Fr. Johnson sent me to town with Bampton, when I made
JOURNAL (1874)
some of the above notes on the Academy. After that we went to AH
Saints’ Margaret Street. I wanted to see if my old enthusiasm was a
mistake, I recognised certainly more than before Butterfield’s want of
rhetoric and telling, almost to dullness, and even of enthusiasm and
zest in his work — thought the wall-mosaic rather tiresome for instance.
Still the rich nobility of the tracery in the open arches of the sanctuary
and the touching and passionate curves of the lilyings in the ironwork
under the baptistery arch marked his genius to me as before. But my
eye was fagged with looking at pictures
Then we went to Holman Hunt’s Shadow of Death} First impression
on entering — great glare and lightsomeness (so that, strange to say, I
could not help knowing what a woman behind me meant by saying
that, well, it reminded her of those pictures they hang up in nation4
schools) ; true sunset effect — that is/ the sunset light lodged as the
natural light and only detected by its heightening the existing reds,
especially in the golden-bronze skin he has given to our Lord’s figure,
and by contrast in the blue shadows on white drapery and puce-
purple ones on pink silk. Also thin unmuscular but most realistic
anatomy of arm and leg. Also type of figure not very pleasing — seems
smaller from the waist down, head overlarge, and the feet not in-
scaped but with a scapeless look they sometimes no doubt have (I can
remember and do not put it down for reverence: see above on
Millais’ Daydream) and veined too, which further breaks their scaping.
On the whole colour somewhat overglaring. The pale weathered
brick (?) interior throws up the glare of our Lord’s figure. Face
beautiful, sweet and human but not quite pleasing. Red and white
embroidery of broad flat belt giving a graceful inscape and telling in
the picture. Clever addled folds of the white cloth. Shavings and all the
texture too tufty and woolly — and you get the thoiaght of this from
the sea-shot blue-and-green woollen gown our Lady wears. The saws
and other tools seemed over-blue. No inscape of composition what-
ever — not known and if it had been known it could scarcely bear up
against such realism
The early part of the summer cold and very dry, so our haycrop
light and poor. June 24. thunderstorm
June 25. Showery. To Kew Gardens with Dobson.^ On way home
got some fumitory and white bryony, which last kept a long time, the
leaves warping and coiling strongly in water. It is not dead yet,
July 16.
June 26. Triduum began, during which dark wet days : the end of the
month was rainy
July 2. At House of Lords.^ Heard Lord Cairnes (Lord Chancellor),
Lord Chelmsford, Duke of Richmond etc
JOURNAL (1874) 249
July 7. Over Wimbledon Camp, One man fired on his back with
one arm. The day was bright and windy : it was very pretty to see the
flags folding and rolling on the wind ; the figures seemed to glide off at
one end and reappear at the other
July 9. To the Oratory. Addis was away but Fr. Law* was kind and
hospitable. I met Mr. David Lewis, ^ a great Scotist, and at the same
time old Mr. Brande Morris^ was making a retreat with us : I got to
know him, so that oddly I made the acquaintance of two and I sup-
pose the only two Scotists in England in one week
Heat has come on now. The air is full of the sweet acid of the limes.
The trees themselves are starrily tasselled with the blossom. I remark
that our cedars, which had a warp upward in the flats of leaf, in
getting their new green turn and take a soft and beautiful warp down-
wards : whether it is the lushness or the weight of the young needles or
both I cannot tell. They are now very beautiful in shape and colour
July 12. I noticed the smell of the big cedar, not just in passing it
but always at a patch of sunlight on the walk a little way off. I found
the bark smelt in the sun and not in the shade and I fancied too this
held even of the smell it shed in the air
July 13 — Tht comet — I have seen it at bedtime in the west, with
head to the ground, white, a soft well-shaped tail, not big : I felt a
certain awe and instress, a feeling of strangeness, flight (it hangs like
a shuttlecock at the height, before it falls), and of threatening
By the by Mr. Knowles was here lately to see Fr. Johnson. He has
now left the Society
July 14 — ^To the House of Commons.** The debate was on the Schools
Endowment bill moved by Lord Sandon, who spoke well ; so did, not
so well, Mr. Forster in reply. We heard Newdigate. Gladstone was
preparing to speak and writing fast but we could not stay to hear him.
Lowe, who sat next him, looked something like an apple in the snow
July 23 — ^To Beaumont : it was the rector’s day. It was a lovely day ;
shires-long of pearled cloud under cloud, with a grey stroke under-
neath marking each row ; beautiful blushing yellow in the straw of the
uncut ryefields, the wheat looking white and all the ears making a
delicate and very true crisping along the top and with just enough air
stirring for them to come and go gently ; then there were fields reaping.
All this I would have looked at again in returning but during dinner
I talked too freely and unkindly and had to do penance going home.
One field I saw from the balcony of the house behind an elmtree,
^hich it threw up, like a square of pale goldleaf, as it might be,
catching the light
Our schools at Roehampton ended with two days of examination
before St. Ignatius’ feast the 31st. I was very tired and seemed deeply
cast down till I had some kind words from the Provincial. Altogether
250
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perhaps my heart has never been so burdened and cast down as this
year. The tax on my strength has been greater than I have felt before :
at least now at Teignmouth I feel myself weak and can do little. But
in all this our Lord goes His own way
On the 5th I went again to Beaumont for their speechday. This time
I went twice up to the beeches to see the view over Windsor and the
valley of the Thames which it commands. I returned in the evening
but next day went over again to go with their community to Teign-
mouth for the villa
Aug. 7 — This seems a dull place. The cliffs are of deep red sand-
stone ; the sand on the shore flies and stings you ; the vegetatiop is
rich ; the Teign is an estuary where it meets the sea and as far up
Newton Abbot. I walked this evening along the road which skirts it As
far as Kingsteignton (I think) with Mr. Hayes. ^ Steep hills rising oh
the right, with beautiful elms running tall and slender, as I have
remarked before about Torquay, climbing up them; the hedges in
long sprays ; the soil red
Aug. 8 — Walking in morning with Fr. Beiderlinden. Pretty farm-
yard at ^ — thatch casting sharp shadow on white-
wash in the sun and a village rising beyond, all in a comb; sharp
showers, bright clouds ; sea striped with purple. In the evening I went
by myself up the hills towards Bishopsteignton, by a place a little girl
called Ke-am or Ku-am, perhaps she meant Coomb. Before reaching
that, just out of Teignmouth, I looked over a hedge down to a row of
seven slender rich elms at a bottom between two steep fields : the run
of the trees and their rich and handsome leafage charmed and held me.
It is a little nearer the sea in the same coomb the little girl spoke of
indeed. Then near Bishopsteignton from a hilltop I looked into a
lovely comb that gave me the instress of Weeping Winifred^^ which all
the west country seems to me to have : soft maroon or rosy cocoa-dust-
coloured handkerchiefs of ploughfields, sometimes delicately combed
with rows of green, their hedges bending in flowing outlines and now
misted a little by the beginning of twilight ran down into it upon the
shoulders of the hills ; in the bottom crooked rows of rich tall elms,
foreshortened by position, wound through it: some cornfields were
still being carried
The next day I was walking with Considine_pn the hills from near
this same spot towards Dawlish, It rained (as it keeps doing) and this
blotted out the views. However I looked into this same and other
coombs. I saw how delicately beautiful the orchards look from far
above: the wrought-over boughs of the appletrees made an em-
broidery and whole head and wood a soft tufting and discolouring
which were melted by the distance and the rain. — * A steep sloping
field in which the sheaves were scattered and left in the rain, not made
JOURNAL (1874) 251
into stocks (which by the by the Devonshire people call shocks) : at a
distance they looked like straw-wisps
Aug. 1 1 — Crossed the Teign by the long bridge which a namesake
of mine, Roger Hopkins,* built and went up the hills towards Torquay,
seeing all round me the sea and coast and valley of the Teign and
getting fresh glimpses at every gate as I mounted. One dim horn on the
left runs trending round into Dorset, past the mouth of the Exe, near
which the red ends and chalk begins ; on the right Hope’s Nose and
Torbay just caught sight of beyond and above it. Near below me the
estuary and valley of the Teign ; Teignmouth at the corner between
river and sea, an irregular, not unpicturesque jaunt of white walls and
lavender slate gables ; the valley is backed and closed by Dartmoor,
with several tors in sight. The sea striped with splintered purple
cloud-shadows. I marked the bole, the burling and roundness of the
world. I sat down in the lap or fold of a steep slanting pasturefield the
grass of which was so smooth and parched and light that it pained
the eyes like a road and between the two cheeks of this field the sea was
caught in some such shape as this. Many
butterflies fluttering in the lanes, burnet-
moths loafing on heads of scabious ; hedges of
whitethorn, and blackthorn thick with sloes,
blackberries, flags in seed, tall yellow fennel starred with flowers etc
Suant (perhaps, as Considine suggests, for soont) means wet, said of a
day, weather. — Also the people here call boats he instead of she
Aug. 1 3 — Heavy seas : we walked along the seawall to the Kenna-
way Tunnel to watch them. The wave breaks in this order — the crest
of the barrel ‘doubling’ (that, a boatman said, is the word in use) is
broken into a bush of foam, which, if you search it, is a lace and tangle
of jumping sprays ; then breaking down these grow to a sort of shaggy
quilt tumbling up the beach ; thirdly this unfolds into a sheet of clear
foam and running forward in leaves and laps the wave reaches its
greatest height upon the shore and at the same time its greatest clear-
ness and simplicity ; after that, raking on the shingle and so on, it is
forked and torn and, as it commonly has a pitch or lurch to one side
besides its backdraught, these rents widen : they spread and mix and
the water clears and escapes to the sea transparent and keeping in the
end nothing of its white except in long dribble bubble-strings which
trace its set and flow. — The shore here is not pebbly but sand and in
some places a fine red grit hardly to be called sand, when wet of a rich
maroon, fallen from the red cliffs, which are richly tapestried with
bramble, traveller’s-joy I think, and ivy and other things. The colour
of the breakers registered the nature of the earth they were over —
mostly brown, then a wandering streak or stain of harsh clayey red.
The seawall is picturesque and handsome from below — it is built of
JOURNAL (1874)
white and red and blue blocks and with a brim or lip or cornice or
coping curved round to beetle over and throw back the spray without
letting it break on the walk above : this shape and colour give it an
Egyptian look.— The laps of running foam striking the sea-wall double
on themselves and return in nearly the same order and shape in which
they came. This is mechanical reflection and is the same as optical :
indeed all nature is mechanical, but then it is not seen that mechanics
contain that which is beyond mechanics
Aug. 14 — In the afternoon I went up the down above called Little
Haldon (it is Haldon, Shaldon, Hawldon, Shawldon, not Haldon etc).
At one gate on the way to the left — ‘ a long barrow-like shapely hill
between me and the Teign ; this dipped to a coomb and another hill
rose opposite; between them was the same coomb, I think, that 'J
looked at the other night. On the barrow-hill were rich purple-red
ploughfields : where the green tufts of the elm-heads stood up against
them I could catch the lilac in the red (they clip the stems of the elms
down here and let the crest or top grow, only not close as in Essex and
some places but letting the sprays spring and make a bushy stocking
round the pole, which is odd but not ugly). Then on the shoulder of
the opposite hill was an orchard very trimly tufted with round tree-
heads. In the gap between the hills was Dartmoor and the country
between in the foreground of it/ all in blue, the woods in mosaic of
deeper blue. I have forgotten even now much but this was a very
beautiful sight. At the next opening above/ the barrow-hill was pressed
down, the hills beyond the Teign topped it, the flooded valley of the
Teign opened and Newton Abbot at the head. Then I got onto the moor
or down and looked over onto the opposite country and could see
without break all round — Dartmoor; Berry Head in Torbay and, I
think, the head at the mouth of the Dart ; the Exe ; and the Dorset etc
coast and all the sea between. The distance, especially westward over
Dartmoor, was dim and dark, some rain had fallen and there were
fragments of a rainbow but a wedge of sunlight streamed down
through a break in the clouds upon the valley : a hawk also was hang-
ing on the hover. — I clearly saw then and also yesterday what I was
once doubtful of at Bursledon — beams rising from the horizon in the
east due opposite to the sunset:* this was some time before sunset,
yesterday was, I think, after it. I think they arc^atmospheric merely
This reminds me that there was an imitation Turkey carpet in the
room we used for chapel in which I saw that optical illusion I have
noticed in blue window-glass and in a stencilled wall in the church at
Stonyhurst : blue and green stood up inches, scarlet retired. On look-
ing close it appeared the blue at all events was slightly higher than the
rest, being apparently of looser, tuftier make but not enough to ex-
plain the appearance
JOURNAL (1874) 353
Aug. 15— To Exeter to see the Cathedral* It is under restoration,
the choir boxed off by boarding, and you cannot well tell what is old
and what new. Some notes to remember it by — two Norman towers ;
east of them choir, in 7 bays and a little one; nave, in 7, west; nave
windows in basement story broad, geometrical, in clearstory they
seemed more flowing; choir windows earlier Middle-Pointed; west
front in three storeys — first screen, with figures ; then big geometrical?)
window ; then behind that again gable with smaller window. Within
— roof in four-sake groins — four bays into the nave-vault from each
shaft and four into the side-vaults over the windows; Minstrels’
Gallery halfway down nave on N. side ; long richly carved corbels, like
long strawberry pottles, especially rich and beautiful in choir (I think
they have been recut there; in choir — rich stalls; Bishop’s Throne
something like a Sacraments-Haus ; rich organ-screen. The most
beautiful thing I saw was a tomb on the N. side of the choir wall : I
think it is Bp. Marshall’s, date 1206. The flow of the main lines of
tracery enclosing the panels or medallions and the foliation filling the
spandrils and vacant field is original, flush, sweet, and tender, and
truly classical, as befits and marks a flush and hopeful age. — ^Here are
some dates and measurements from a guidebook
Towers 128 ft. high, 28 ft. square — 1 1 12 ; ladychapel and chapter-
house 1223-1244 ; transept and part of choir 1281-1293 ; choir 132 ft.
long, 68 ft. high, begun by Bp. Quivil (1281-1293), completed by Bp.
Grandisson (1328-1369); nave 180 ft. long, 68 high, built by Bp.
Bytton (1293-1307) and aisles added to it within that time; these
completed and aisle added to choir 1307-1318; nave vaulted by
Grandisson and within same bishopric organ-screen and western
facade ; cloisters and altar-window 1380-1392 ; chapter-house finished
1420-1455; Bishop’s Throne 1470 about; cathedral finished 1478; its
total length 408 ft.
Aug. 1 7 — ^We went over to Ugbrooke at Lord Clifford’s invitation.
He took us over the park, to Chudleigh Rocks, which are a cliff over a
deep and beautiful cleave quite closed with ashtrees into which we
looked down ; to the Danish Camp (it seems to be Roman but was
used in Alfred’s war with the Danes) — the steep vallum is now grown
with trees, mainly sycomore ; later to a spot where Dryden wrote the
Hind and Panther and to a great oak, now in its decay and shrinking
in size by the fall of its branches from time to time, which serves as a
landmark for two parishes and goes by the name of Great Rawber
(or Rowber, I think, like how)^ probably a corruption of Magnum
Robur in Latin deeds. — ‘Beeches rich in leaf, rather brown in colour,
one much spread — ’ Tall larches on slope of a hill near the lake and
^ill, also a wychelm, also a beech, both of these with ivory-white bark
pied with green moss : there was an instress about this spot — , Beautiful
254 JOURNAL (1874)
glittering planes — [Two great spreading laurels, one upheld by
props — A little olivetree : leaves like privet (it is akin to privet and ash,
Mr. Sircom* said) but stiffer, pricked at the end, sober green lined
with grey, the sprays free and graceful ; bark smooth and grey ; habit
of tree trim. The day was fine, the park is beautiful, especially from the
falls of ground — great brows falling over to the lakes and clothed with
fern and clumps of trees and woods. In the house we were shewn a
wonderful piece of embroidery^ — bedhangings, now taken down and
displayed on great folding screens : they are of a Lady Cliiford’s work
(they say 2 1 people worked 2 1 years at them : now though there is a
great deal of work of them I should have thought that number! of
people could have done them in that number of days) and are praised
in a letter to Mrs. Delany^ — flowers and festoons and scarves and othW
half-architectural details ; the designs of the flowers graceful and the
execution delicate. — I liked the family : all the children spoke in a very
frank and simple way which shewed innocence as well as good breed-^
ing. As we drove home the stars came out thick : I leant back to look
at them and my heart opening more than usual praised our Lord to
and in whom all that beauty comes home
Aug. 18 — ^Bright, the first such day here. — ^We pulled over to
Babbicombe, the sea being too calm for sailing. A great seine was
floating and covered acres : it is nothing but a belt or valence of net,
floated with corks above, leaded below, and having I forget what the
depth is, drawn into a semicircle with the ends resting at the shore, by
which it gathers the fish. If the ‘schoor'* (the boatman talked of
‘schools’) make a rush it breaks and for the same reason the fish cannot
be dragged up on shore but must be taken out with dipnets. The fish
landed are mostly dead : they kill one another with their weight and
crowding: only those at top are alive. He also told us there were
badgers living along the cliffs. At Marychurch we went to Mr. Brown-
low’s.^ (By the by I saw there Maderna’s^ beautiful statue of St.
Cecilia : he was a contemporary of Bernini’s but the natural grace of
this figure is due to its having been made after the body of the saint as
it was found lying.) Then I went, with John Lynch,^ who had come to
meet me, to Butterfield’s Church* at Babbicombe. It is odd and the
oddness at first sight outweighed the beauty. It is long and low, only a
foot or so, just to mark the break, between the nave and aisle (lean-to)
roofs (I am nearly sure I remember there being once a wider interval
with quaterfoil fanlights) ; the windows scattered ; the steeple rather
detached, not, I thought, very impressive, with an odd openwork
diaper of freestone over marble pieces on the tower/ and on the spire
scale-work, and with turrets at corners. There is a hood of the same
diaper at the east-end gable from the spring of the arch of the east
window about upward. Tracery all simple. Inside chancel-arch much
255
JOURNAL (1874)
as at St. Alban’s, Holborn — a cross and lozenges in freestone enclosing
black-and-white patterned tiles set in chequer and the pattern, more
by suggestion than outright, passing from one to the other — something
of this sort: I am not so sure of the tiles being
squarehung — they may have been lozenges. Same
sort of thing down the nave above and in the
spandrils of the arches — diamonds and tiles but
also seven-foiled blind tracery in the spandrils
meant to contain mosaic, the foils not symmet-
rical but somehow thus — . And in other places were other such open-
ings, whether lights of windows or blind and enclosing
mosaics, as in the reredos and each side of the choir,
some six-foiled fishes, some otherwise. In two of them
he makes use of the split or spiked cusp (I call it) —
Much marble is employed — pillars, font,
pulpit, choir pavement, reredos, medallions round
east window etc — and everything very solid and
perfect. Pulpit beautiful, like a church or shrine and in three storeys,
basement, triforium etc. Medallions by east window/ alternate in-
scapes — all fivc-spoked wheels or roses — odd. Some of these patterns
in the marble, as on the floor and on the stage or block by the font,
were large and simple but not very striking. There was a more
quarried look about the designing than he commonly has (in the
cieling for instance). The nave roof-timbers and choir cieling were
remarkably flattened : I liked this. The enrichment grows towards the
altar, the choir cieling having two degrees of it. Rafters there fluted
and striped, webs between sown with bigger and smaller stars or
rowels on pale sea-green ground. Wrought brass chancel gates with
a running inscape not quite satisfying, continued by deep marble
party- wall (as at Margaret Street) pierced byquaterfoils. Very graceful
gasjets from the walls
Then we sat on the down above Babbicombe bay. The sea was like
blue silk. It seemed warped over towards our feet. Half-miles of cats-
paw like breathing on glass just turned the smoothness here and there.
Red cliffs, white ashy shingle, green inshore water, blue above that,
clouds and distant cliffs dropping soft white beams down it, bigger
clouds rliaking big white tufts of white broken by ripples of the darker
blue foreground water as if they were great white roses sunk in a blue
dye
Aug. 19 — ^Went up Haldon. Sultry; sunlight dim. Returning I
looked down into a coomb full of sleepy mealy haze ; the sun, which
was westered, a bush of sparkling beams ; and below/ the trees in the
hollow grey and throwing their shadows in spokes/ those straight below
the sun towards me, the others raying away on either side — a beautiful
JOURNAL (1874)
sight ; long shadows creeping in the slacks and hollows of the steep red
sandstone fields
I dined with Mr. Tozer^ a convert, brother to African Bishop Tozcr.
I met the Bp. of Plymouth^ (my sixth Vaughan) ; Miss Betts a convert,
a simple-minded young lady whom I liked : she had tried her vocation
for 7 months in the Benedictine convent here and given up because it
was so ‘prim’ and no words could say what she had suffered there;
and a Captain and Mrs. Austin, Indian- Australian- American people,
Protestants
Aug. 20 — ^To Bristol with Mr. Foley^ and Considine. Fr.Walter
Clifford^ kindly shewed us the lions, taking us to St. Mary Redcliff,S|
the Cathedral,^ the Puseyite St. Raphael’s (where I was with Addis)
etc. St. Mary RedclifF — narrow and so looks high ; spire just lately \
completed — it had been truncated, one storey only. It is under restora-
tion by Godwin and so the choir boxed off as Exeter Cathedral. It is
mostly good and rich early Third-Pointed but the steeple and North
Porch are Middle-Pointed rich and terminal (split cusps etc), some
parts are First-Pointed and the whole shell of the church I believe is so.
This north porch is striking : it is a hexagon, if I remember ; the win-
dows richly foiled but the cusps not split, though the effect is much
the same : buttresses run up and end in a wedge upon their mullions,
with odd effect. Within, opening on the church, two beautiful First-
Pointed arcades with the heartfelt grace and flush in the foliation of
the capitals that belongs to that keeping. Odd windows in transepts
with a band of quaterfoils enclosing the rest (Third-Pointed). Third-
Pointed finely proportioned tomb behind altar, in two compartments
with canopy. The Geometrical windows at the west end of aisle and in
basement of tower are modern. Here and at the Cathedral tombs
with fine rich remarkably designed Middle-Pointed canopies. Of the
Cathedral we could not see much. Street is adding a nave to it:
designs cold, not pleasing
Aug. 21 — ^To see the suspension bridge. Odd to
see people walking below: they appear like this — .
The rock the top of which is Clifton down is very fine.
We went on to Beaumont. As we approached Windsor
the London smoke met us rolling up the valley of the
Thames. Windsor stood out in the evening light : I think there can
be no place like it — the eye-greeting burl of the'"Round Tower ; all
the crownlike medley of lower towers warping round ; red and white
houses of the town abutting on these, gabled and irregularly jut-jotted
against them, making a third stage or storey
Aug. 22 — I am to stop till Monday. Went to stroll on Runnymedc
and bathed at their osier-grown and willowy bathingplace
Aug. 23 — Drive through Windsor Park, walk by Virginia Water,
JOURNAL (1874) 257
views of the Castle, etc. Came out at the Wheatsheaf and by Engle-
field green, all grown with grey and red heath, so down Cooper’s Hill,
home
Aug. 24 — ^To Roehampton
Aug. 25 — ^To Westminster Abbey, where I went round the cloisters,
examined the diaper, took in the beautiful paired triforium-arcade
with cinqfoiled wheels riding the arches (there is a simplicity of instress
in the cinqfoil) etc. Then to the National Gallery, where I made notes.
As I hurried from picture to picture at first these words came to my
mind — ‘Studious to eat but not to taste’. I dined with our Fathers at
Westminster
Aug. 26 — ^Heard definitively that I was to go to St. Beuno’s^ to
make my theology
Aug. 28 — Rising half an hour earlier than usual I saw the full moon
of brassyish colour and beautifully dappled hanging a little above the
clump in the pasture opposite my window. — ^To St. Beuno’s. Henry
Kerr and Mr. Bodoano met me at St. Asaph, Mr. Bacon put scarlet
geraniums in my room, and everyone was very kind and hospitable —
The rector is Fr. James Jones, the minister Fr. Murphy^
Aug. 30 — ^Walked with Mr. Bacon to Cwm churchyard
Aug. 31 — ^Walking with Henry Kerr. We talked to the old lodge-
keeper at Bryn Bella : she will be 89 next month. She had been servant
there to Mrs. Piozzi, Mrs. Thrale^ that was. Also she told us she was a
Tremeirchion Cow : there are the C'wm Calves, the Caerwys Crows,
the Denbigh Cats
A silvery-brown blindworm was gliding over the road. — ^Hardhead,
crosswort, agrimony
Sept. I -To St. Asaph: the people call it Llan-elwy. We passed
Mrs. Hemans’^ house and saw her monument in the Cathedral.^
Though it is no bigger than a large parish church it has an imposing
rather Cathedral-like look. It has old choir stalls and a massive tower
but as it is restored (and under restoration) I can no longer tell what
is old
Sept. 3 — For the first time to the Rock. The Rock is a great resort
of hawks and owls. Then with Mr. Purbrick to
Trefnant,^ where we went into a pretty little new
church built of the same limestone as St. Beuno’s
and the pillars of a motded grey, I suppose local,
marble. Capitals all of that sort which is common
^two rows or rings of tufts of leaf or flower, one
above the other, the upper the bigger, and the two rows alternate
with one another. These were good work, also the corbels
Sept. 6 — With Wm. Kerr, who took me up a hill behind ours (ours
is Mynefyr), a furze-grown and heathy hill, from which I could look
B G 028 S
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JOURNAL (1874)
round the whole country, up the valley towards Ruthin and down to
the sea. The cleave in which Bodfari and Caerwys lie was close below.
It was a leaden sky, braided or roped with cloud, and the earth in
dead colours, grave but distinct. The heights by Snowdon were hidden
by the clouds but not from distance or dimness. The nearer hills, the
other side of the valley, shewed a hard and beautifully detached and
glimmering brim against the light, which was lifting there. All the
length of the valley the skyline of hills was flowingly written all along
upon the sky. A blue bloom, a sort of meal, seemed to have spread
upon the distant south, enclosed by a basin of hills. Looking all round
but most in looking far up the valley I felt an instress and charm of
Wales. Indeed in coming here I began to feel a desire to do something
for the conversion of Wales. I began to learn Welsh' too but not with
very pure intentions perhaps. However on consulting the Rector on
this, the first day of the retreat, he discouraged it unless it were purely
for the sake of labouring among the Welsh. Now it was not and so I
saw I must give it up. At the same time my music seemed to come to
an end. Yet, rather strangely, I had no sooner given up these two
things (which disappointed me and took an interest away — and at that
time I was very bitterly feeling the weariness of life and shed many
tears, perhaps not wholly into the breast of God but with some un-
manliness in them too, and sighed and panted to Him), I had no
sooner given up the Welsh than my desire seemed to be for the con-
version of Wales and I had it in mind to give up everything else for
that ; nevertheless weighing this by St. Ignatius’ rules of election* I
decided not to do so
Sept. 7 — We heard of the Marquis of Ripon’s conversion. He had
been just before Grand Master of the Freemasons: it seems a great
stroke of grace
Sept. 8 — ^With Fr. Morris up the FoeP
Sept. 10 — ^A Blandyke; fine and bright. With Mr. Bacon to
Ffynnon-y-capel or Ffynnon-Fair^ (or Mair?), such another well as
St. Winefred’s, standing in a beautiful spot in the valley of the Elwy
^ at a ruined chapel. We said a prayer and
drank the water. The shape is something as
opposite : the five points are perhaps to re-
1 I call the five jxjrches of Bethesda and their
I ^ I symbolism. The basis of pillars (which
^ \ would have supported a canopy having five
openings in circuit and two at the side be-
® tween the well and the trough or bath) can be
seen. The remains of the chapel are Third-Pointed. Thence we went
to Cefn (the /, that is y, is very soft, almost a vowel, perhaps what the
Greek v in diphthongs is now or has been in reaching its present
JOURNAL (1874) 259
sound), Cefn Rocks, from which the view of the deep valley of the
Elwy, the meeting of two, which makes three, glens indeed, is most
beautiful. The woods, thick and silvered by sunlight and shade, by
the flat smooth banking of the tree-tops expressing the slope of the hill,
came down to the green bed of the valley. Below at a little timber
bridge I looked at some delicate flying shafted ashes — there was one
especially of single sonnet-like inscape — between which the sun sent
straight bright slenderish panes of silvery sunbeams down the slant
towards the eye and standing above an unkept field stagged with
patchy yellow heads of ragwort. In the evening I watched a fine
sunset from the tower : the place is famous for them
At night the retreat began, given by Fr. Coleridge. There are some
remarks on it in my notes of meditation. The ordination of sub-
deacons took place on the i8th, by Bp. Thomas Brown* of Newport
and Menevia in place of Bp. James Brown^ of Shrewsbury, who is ill ;
next day, the 19th, that of deacons and also the minor orders were
given to me with six others. One of these was Br. Magri a Maltese,
who has an interesting history. It is said he was to be married, when
he broke off the match, gave his property over to his brother, and fled
to our noviceship. Perhaps this word fled does not truly represent what
happened. — ^The retreat ended with the i8th. Fr. Brindle^ is minister
in Fr. Murphy’s place
I talked to this Br. Magri about Maltese. It is mainly Arabic,
he said, with a groundwork of Punic. Newspapers are published in it
in European ‘script’ : an Oriental character would have been better,
because some sounds cannot be expressed in our letters except by a
convention. Rather to my humiliation I found great difficulty in hear-
ing the gutturals {gh^ kh, and another there is). They are real gutturals y
that is/ uttered deep in the throat. I made him say ghali (high, dear)
many times : at first it seemed no different from ali ; then it seemed a
difference made on purpose but not in the lettering of the word ; then
I heard the initial gh or, I suppose, - or - ^ but could not as yet liken it
to any sound we have, to say it was a sort of this or that : it did not
seem to me to be the break of the glottis or at least on my pronouncing
di with and without this he seemed to discard the difference as im-
material. It is clear how differently quickened the ear must be to
meaning and unmeaning sounds : it seemed to me very hard to think
one could catch the difference between ghali and ali in quick conversa-
tion, or at a distance. A better instance is gharghafy which sounds like
am with some hesitation or delay before the vowels. Their verse is
either by quantity or accent (with rhyme) but I found that this
quantitative verse is not in use : I think it may be theoretical only. In
the word we tried it was plain the accent followed the quantity/ above
two syllables, just as in the modern accentuation of Latin words
26 o
JOURNAL (1874)
This day my late pupil Br. Richard O’Neill died at Stonyhurst of
(most likely typhus) fever brought with him from Roehampton. There
was, I now remember, a sad wistful look he had, a sort of mark of
early death stamped upon him : I interpret after the event
Sept. 20 — Ordination of priests* — ^sixteen, including many Germans
from Ditton. At the singing of the Veni Creator and giving of the Orders
I was by God’s mercy deeply touched
Sept. 24 — ^Very bright and clear. I was with Mr. Rickaby^ on the
hill above the house. All the landscape had a beautiful liquid cast of
blue. Many-coloured smokes in the valley, grey from the Denbigh
lime-kiln, yellow and lurid from two kilns perhaps on the shoulders of
a hill, blue from a bonfire, and so on .
Afterwards a lovely sunset of rosy juices and creams and combs ; thi
combs I mean scattered floating bats or rafts or racks above, the
creams/ the strew and bed of the sunset, passing north and south or
rather north only into grey marestail and brush along the horizon
to the hills. Afterwards the rosy field of the sundown turned gold and
the slips and creamings in it stood out like brands, with jots of purple.
A sodden twilight over the valley and foreground all below, holding
the corner-hung maroon-grey diamonds of ploughfields to one keeping
but allowing a certain glare in the green of the near tufts of grass
Sept. 27 — ^At rising I saw a long slender straight river of dull white
cloud rolling down all the bed of the Clwyd from as far as I could look
up the valley to the sea, in height perhaps twice as high as the
Cathedral tower. Its outline rose and fell regularly in low or shallow
waves or swellings like smooth knots in a bamboo and these swellings
seemed not to be upwards only but also to bulge every way, encroach-
ing on the fields as well. I could also see that it had a flaky or verte-
brated make, the flakes leaning forward and curling and falling over a
little. St. Asaph with the tower and trees and other spots appeared in
grey washes at thinnings or openings of the mist. — ^At that time it was
dull but cleared to a lovely day — ^we have been having indeed a
second summer — , but in the evening a fog came suddenly on and then
cleared again
Sept. 28 — ^With Bodoano to Caerwys wood, a beautiful place. The
day being then dark and threatening we walked some time under a grey
light more charming than sunshine falling through boughs and leaves
Oct. I — ^This day the scholastic year began and Fr. Tosi read the
inaugural address, an interesting composition but a little amusing
shewing that the present persecution was ‘omnium taeterrima’
Oct. 2 — ^There is a splendid thick-stemmed carnation-coloured lily
called valotta. I saw one in the greenhouse next to an agapanthus^ on
the same shelf: the chord of colour and even the bidding of shape
in the two heads struck me very much
JOURNAL (1874) a6i
Oct. 8 — ^Bright and beautiful day. Crests of snow could be seen on
the mountains. Barraud^ and I walked over to Holywell and bathed at
the well and returned very joyously. The sight of the water in the well as
clear as glass, greenish like beryl or aquamarine, trembling at the sur-
face with the force of the springs, and shaping out the five foils of the
well quite drew and held my eyes to it. Within a month or six weeks from
this (I think Fr. di Pietro^ said) a young man from Liverpool, Arthur
Kent (?), was cured of rupture/ in the water. The strong unfailing flow
of the water and the chain of cures from year to year all these centuries
took hold of my mind with wonder at the bounty of God in one of His
saints, the sensible thing so naturally and gracefully uttering the
spiritual reason of its being (which is all in true keeping with the story
of St. Winefred’s^ death and recovery) and the spring in place leading
back the thoughts by its spring in time to its spring in eternity : even
now the stress and buoyancy and abundance of the water is before
my eyes
Qct. 12 — ^The bp came, so we got a half holiday and I went with
Rickaby to Cwm. We came back by the woods on the Rhuallt and the
view was so like Ribblesdale from the fells that you might have
thought you were there. The sky was iron grey and the valley, full of
Welsh charm and graceful sadness, all in grave colours lay like a
painted napkin
Oct. 19 — I was there again with Purbrick, at the scaffolding which
is left as a mark of the survey at the highest point. We climbed on this
and looked round : it was a fresh and delightful sight. The day was
rainy and a rolling wind ; parts of the landscape, as the Orms’ Heads,
were blotted out by rain. The clouds westwards were a pied piece —
sail-coloured brown and milky blue; a dun yellow tent of rays
opened upon the skyline far off. Cobalt blue was poured on the hills
bounding the valley of the Clwyd and far in the south spread a bluish
damp, but all the nearer valley was showered wdth tapered diamond
flakes of fields in purple and brown and green
Nov. 8— Walking with Wm. Splaine^ we saw a vast multitude of
starlings^ making an unspeakable jangle. They would settle in a row
of trees ; then, one tree after another, rising at a signal they looked like
a cloud of specks of black snuff or powder struck up from a brushy or
broom or shaken from a wig ; then they would sweep round in whirl-
winds — you could see the nearer and farther bow of the rings by the
size and blackness ; many would be in one phase at once, all narrow
black flakes hurling round, then in another ; then they would fall upon
a field and so on. Splaine wanted a gun : then ‘there it would rain
nieat* he said. I thought they must be full of enthusiasm and delight
hearing their cries and stirring and cheering one another
Nov. 1 1 — Bitter north wind, hail and sleet. On the hills snow lying
26a JOURNAL (1874-5)
and the mountains covered from head to foot. But they could scarcely
be seen till next day, a Blandyke, which was fine and clear. I went
with Mr. Hughes up Moel y Parch, from the top of which we had a
noble view, but the wind was very sharp. Snowdon and all the range
reminded me of the Alps : they looked like a stack of rugged white
flint, specked and streaked with black, in many places chiselled and
channelled. Home by Caerwys wood, where we saw two beautiful
swans, as white as they should be, restlessly steering and ‘canting’ in
the water and following us along the shore : one of them several times,
as if for vexation, caught and gnawed at the stone quay of the sluice
close under me
Susan Bond is married (to Mr. Pooley). Mrs. Beechey has been dead
about 3 weeks. Baillie is threatened with consumption and has been\
spitting blood : he is ordered south and is going up the Nile
On Sunday Nov. 22 Frederick Rymer died a holy death at Pau.
He was for a short time a pupil of mine at Roehampton
Dec. 1 5 — Heavy fall of snow. Hitherto much rain, with floods in the
valley. After this snow and frost till the 2nd of January, I think, after
which it was mild and towards the end of that month the birds were
singing
In the autumn of 1874 Gladstone* brought out his Expostula-
tion with Catholics upon the Vatican decrees and syllabus. Many
good answers appeared and were read in the refectory — by Lord
Robert Montagu, Pope Hennessy, Dr. Ullathorne, Mgr. Capel, Dr.
Manning, the two last the least interesting. But Dr. Manning’s was
more interesting towards the end and dignified throughout. Dr.
Newman’s we read in recreation. This came out about the beginning
of the year. Simcox reviews it interestingly in the Academy
While this controversy was going on Kingsley died. Gladstone
replied by Vaticanism
One day in the winter I walked to Bodlewyddan church with Henry
Kerr and Wagner.^ This is the modern church of white limestone the
spire of which in the plain towards the sea mzikes a bright feature in
our landscape. It has no real beauty but is very rich and solid in Caen
stone, Derbyshire alabaster, and Welsh, French, and Italian marble.
The pillars, each four shafts clustered, are single blocks of marble
On Feb. 4 and 5 1875 frost. On the 4th I w^ed with Hughes to
Denbigh.
Denbigh^ is a taking picturesque town. Seen from here, as Henry
Kerr says, it is always beautiful. The limekiln under a quarried cliff
on this side of the town is always sending out a white smoke and this,
and the greyer smoke of Denbigh, creeping upon the hill, what with
sun and wind give fairy effects which are always changing
The day was bright, the sun sparkling through a frostfog which
JOURNA.L (1875) 263
made the distance dim and the stack of Denbigh hill, as we came near,
dead mealy grey against the light : the castle ruins, which crown the
hill, were punched out in arches and half arches by bright breaks and
eyelets of daylight. We went up to the castle but not in : standing
before the gateway I had an instress which only the true old work
gives from the strong and noble inscape of the pointedarch. We went
to eat our lunch to a corner opening by a stone stile upon a wilderness
by which you get down to the town, under the outer wall, overgrown
with ivy, bramble, and some graceful herb with glossy lush green
sprays, something like celery
Feb. 7 — I asked Miss Jones in my Welsh lesson the Welsh for fairy,
for we were translating Cinderella. She told me cipendper (or perhaps
ciperndper, Anglice kippemapper) :* the word is nothing but kidnapper,
moulded, according to their fashion, to give it a Welsh etymology, as
she said, from cipioj to snatch, to whisk away. However in coming to
an understanding between ourselves what fairies (she says fairess by
the way for a she-fairy) and kippernappers were, on my describing
them as little people ‘that high’, she told me quite simply that she had
seen them. It was on or near the Holywell road (she indicated the
spot). She was going to her grandfather’s farm on the hill, not far from
where Justice Williams lived, on the slope of the Rhuallt. It was a busy
time, haymaking I think. She was going up at 5 o’clock in the morning,
when she saw three little boys of about four years old wearing little
frock coatsf and odd little caps running and dancing before her, taking
hands and going round, then going further, still dancing and always
coming together, she said. She would take no notice of them but went
on to the house and there told them what she had seen and wondered
that children could be out so early. ‘Why she has seen the kipper-
nappers’ her grandmother said to her son, Susannah Jones’ father.
They were
* She afterwards told me the true Welsh word tolwyth-tSg.
t She afterwards called the coats long (llaes, that is/ trailing ; perhaps uncon-
fincd by a girdle) and black. The caps or hats were round and black
LECTURE NOTES: RHETORIC
RHYTHM AND THE OTHER STRUCTURAL
PARTS OF RHETORIC-VERSE^
Mention of rhythm,^ ‘number’, as heard in periods, in prose,
leads to treatment of rhythm and its belongings, the various
shapes of speech called verse
Definition of verse — ^Verse is speech having a marked figure, Verse defined
order/ of sounds independent of meaning and such as can be
shifted from one word or words to others without changing. It
is figure of spoken sound
That it may be marked it must be repeated at least once, that
is/ the figure must occur at least twice, so that it may be defined/
Spoken sound having a repeated figure. (It is not necessary that
any whole should be repeated bodily : it may be sided ojf, as in
the metres of a chorus, but then some common measure, namely
the length of a or - or strength of a beat etc, recurs)
We must not insist on knowing where verse ends and prose
(or verseless composition) begins, for they pass into one another
—as for instance if rhymed but unmetrical doggrel is verse
Beyond verse as thus defined there is a shape of speech possible Another vehicle
in which there is a marked figure and order not in the sounds but of composition
in the grammar and this might be shifted to other words with a
change of specific meaning but keeping some general agree- grammar
ment, as of noun over against noun, verb against verb, assertion
against assertion etc, e.g. Foxes (A) have (B) holes (C) and
birds of the air (A') have (B — not B' here) nests (C'), or more
widely even than this/ with a change of words but keeping the
grammatical and logical meaning — as/ Foxes have holes and
birds of the air have nests (that is/ Beasts have homes to live in)
but the Son of Man has not where to lay His head (that is/ Man
has not a home to live in) : the subjects of the clauses being
changed the one does no more than say yes, the other no.
Hebrew poetry is said to be of this nature. This is figure of gram- Hebrew poetry
mar instead of figure of spoken sounds which in the narrower sense couched in this
is verse. However perhaps Hebrew poetry makes a nearer
approach to verse than this. If for instance it is essentially
musical, at least in origin, the music will supply the element of
structure instead of verse and when it is no longer sung will be
so far supplied by the reader in thought as to justify at least the
poetic wording, stress, dwelling, impressiveness, formal anti-
thesis etc. Besides the initial alephs^ ghimeb etc seem to imply
55ome kind of alliteration, so that there might be some kind of
Kinds of verse
follow the
kinds of like-
ness between
syllables
Pitch — mitsic
Pitch not a
formal element
of verse
Accent in
general
268 LECTURE notes: RHETORIC
verse closed at one end, the beginning, but open and variable at
the other
As we have divided the kinds of composition according to the
kinds of sentence we may find the kinds of possible verse by the
kinds of resemblance possible between syllables. These are —
( 1 ) Musical pitch, to which belongs tonic accent
(2) Length or time or quantity so called
(3) Stress or emphatic accent ; dp<ns and dicris
(4) Likeness or sameness of letters and this some or all and
these vowels or consonants and initial or final. This may be
called the lettering of syllables
(5) Holding, to which belong break and circumflexion, slui^,
glides, slides etc '
These elements of verse then will be running, continuous (2;
and, if marked, i.) or intermittent (4. and, if marked, 3.) But 2. is
especially running and 4. intermittent; 3. is between. Group
together i., 2. and 3., 5.
Other things are unimportant as ring or tang or grain {timbre),
which would be personal or provincial etc accent ; loudness and
softness; accent of meaning, logical, rhetorical, and ethical
emphasis and intonation
(i) We are talking of spoken syllables. Singing or vocal music
has arisen from this same element of pitch but as heard not
essentially in syllables but in breaths, which are something less
than syllables. Once music and verse were one perhaps but were
differenced by dwelling on the mere pitch and the lettering
respectively. And vocal music scarcely becomes wholly inde-
pendent of words except in whistling (Singing without words is
in Greek reperl^eiv, to go lala or ta ra. There is also humming)
This musical pitch therefore not an element of verse, because
so far as dwelt on it gives rise to music, when not dwelt on of
course it goes for nothing. However it is a great element of
beauty in reading
Here then on accent — Accent is any point of pronunciation over
and above the standard sound of the syllable or word or sen-
tence or discourse even in which it is found and the written mark
of it. Thus a provincial, foreign accent is a-turn given by country
people or foreigners to what they say short of changing the
letters of the words they use or, if they do that, short of dis-
guising them beyond recognition, so that in any case they
remain in themselves what they are in common usage. An
accent of surprise, complaint etc is a turn given to what you say
by which over and above its meaning it expresses your surprise,
sorrow etc in saying it. The turn by which we make assertion
RHYTHM AND OTHER STRUCTURAL PARTS 269
into question is accent. The emotional or argumentative or
matter of fact historical turn we give our words is accent. The
slight variations of e, e, S in French are treated as too small to
m^e a change of letter and so go down to accent: it is all e.
However this is a point of view. But more especially we speak of
the accent of words, that is of syllables ; for the accent of a word
means its strongest accent, the accent of its best accented syllable.
This is of two kinds — that of pitch (tonic) and that of stress (em- Tonic and
phatic). We may think of words as heavy bodies, as indoor or emphatic accent
out of door objects of nature or man’s art. Now every visible
palpable body has a centre of gravity round which it is in
balance and a centre of illumination or highspot or quickspot up
to which it is lighted and down from which it is shaded. The
centre of gravity is like the accent of stress, the highspot like the
accent of pitch, for pitch is like light and colour, stress like
weight, and as in some things as air and water the centre of
gravity is either unnoticeable or changeable so there may be
languages in a fluid state in which there is little difference of
weight or stress between syllables or what there is changes and
again as it is only glazed bodies that shew the highspot well so
there may be languages in which the pitch is unnoticeable.
English is of this kind, the accent of stress strong, that of pitch The part they
weak — only they go together for the most part. In French they English
do not and as the accent of pitch, the tonic accent, is more
marked English people and others go by and follow this and
represent it by the accent of stress in their own tongue. They say
r
maiso n, chapell ami for mai son, chap elle, a mi because the tonic
accent is or often is maiscl\n, chapell^e, ami^. And so the French
/ / f
in talking English — another, leprosy, element} For the French
accent of stress, putting aside ti and such half syllables and
mute e^s, is commonly on the penultimate. Try this by whisper-
ing. The tonic accent is an attempt to bring out, light up, dis-
' . / . . ,
tmguish weak syllables — JVapole^on, amiti^e, if I am not mistaken.
So also probably in Greek
For the Greek name for accent is irpoacphia, that is the tune Greek accent
sung to a word, the note or pitch of a syllable. The Latin trans-
lation is accentus, with the same meaning, but we cannot cer-
tainly say that the Latin accent was then tonic, not emphatic.
Also the Greeks give their strong and weak accents the names
of UTovov, PapvTovov, sharp or highpitched and flat or lowpitched ;
so do the French aigu and grave, shewing that they look on an e (the
t>nly letter which is accented for sound and not for distinction’s
370
LECTURE notes: RHETORIC
sake) as being raised or lowered in pitch by its changes of
pronunciation — ^whether it really is so is another question. The
tonic accent then differs by high and low, sharp and flat. The
emphatic differs by strong and weak, which easily passes into
loud and soft. When we contract two or more syllables into one
we try to give as far as possible the new syllable the properties
which all the old had or when we make a word of one or fewer
syllables stand for a word of more syllables ; it thus comes to have
the heights of two or three tonic accents and the stresses or
Circumflex strengths of two or three accents of stress. This is circumflex
<iccent accent (not the same as circumflex vowelling, which is break,
though this latter will involve the former) and there will b^
two kinds of it, for stress and for pitch \
In English every word has its emphatic accent which is quite
essential to it and which being changed the word becomes
It , /
meaningless, as never to never y or changes meaning, as present to
/
present. So far as a tonic accent is noticeable in single words it is
on the same syllable. But besides the stress or emphasis and pitch
or intonation of single syllables one against another there is a
Accent of mean- stress or emphasis and a pitch or intonation running through the
ingy whether sentence and setting word against word as stronger or as higher
though it may make every syllable of the emphatic
word stronger still it is most felt on the accented syllable, the
unaccented are often as weak as any other word in the sentence
— ‘I said my UNcle, not my GREATuncle’. But emotional in-
tonation, especially when not closely bound to the particular
words will sometimes light up notes on unemphatic syllables and
Rule for French not follow the verbal stresses and pitches. In French the rules
are I think as follows — the accent of stress though weak is fixed
or nearly and consequently is the distinguishing mark of the
word and so receives any special or sentence-emphasis (logical
emphasis) which is to be given ; the tonic accent is employed as
a counterpoise to the other and this receives diffused emotional
emphasis
Quantity (2) Quantity of a syllable the time it takes in saying. Only two
times allowed, the long and short and the long reckoned as
equal to two short. This is the rule for Greek and was borrowed
and applied but easily and naturally in Latin. It holds for Tamul
verse and, it is said, for Magyar. It is on the same principle as
a minim = two crotchets or a crotchet two quavers etc. It is
considered to lie in the vowel. The vowel may therefore be con-
sidered in point of quantity to end the syllable. It may be itself
long or short, which is called being long or short by nature— as
RHYTHM AND OTHER STRUCTURAL PARTS 271
0) arc long by nature. It may also be long by position, when
two or more consonants follow in the same word or even at the
beginning of the next. If the vowel by nature is short it is
lengthened then by holding — ra npwra ; BidaTriTr}v — as if the suc-
ceeding consonants held it up. We have in English scarcely
anything answering to this. The meaning of it is that you can
without clumsiness instress, throw a stress on/ a syllable so sup-
ported which if it were unsupported would be drawling.
The length so called of syllables in English, by which wind in 'Quantity in
the ordinary way is short and as rhymed to bind long or sit, got, English
hat, met short, sight, goat, hate, meet long, is rather strength than
length of syllable. Undoubtedly there is a difference of length
and so also when you add consonants — thinkst is longer than
thick, lastst than lass etc but not in the Greek way by ratios
of 1:2.
(3) Accent of stress has been explained — It is the bringing out Accent of stress
of the sound of a syllable, especially of its vowel-sound. It is also
almost necessarily a heightening of the same syllable in loudness.
Unaccented syllables on the contrary are both slurred and soft.
An accented syllable is equal to two unaccented roughly speak-
ing but no two weak accents in a word are exactly equal. Com-
monly those next to the strong are weakest. Perhaps in some
people’s mouth the strong accent may be equal to all the other
accents of the word — veterinary, say 4 = i + i + 1 + 1 ; incom-
parable I +4 + 1 + 1 + 1 = 4+4, or perhaps 1+2 = i + i + 1, for
the foregoing syllables either do not count or may be reckoned
to the strong accent against those that follow it. But some words
f If , f If
have a subordinate strong accent — understanding, overcome
Accentual verse arises from emphatic accent as quantitative Accentual verse
from length of syllable. It is made by repeating the same figure
of accentuation — as | | or | | or | |
etc — ^instead of'^-|'^-|^-or - w|-v^|-v^or-'^^J-^^|
^ ^ etc. But how are we to tell whether to join ' ' | ' | ' ' or
' I ' ' I ' ' I ' etc, w-|w-|w-or^|-^|-v^| - especially a long
way from the beginning. In other words how are we to deter-
mine the rhythm and the feet? In quantitative verse (which al-
ready has time) by the beat, in accentual (which already has
beat/ in accent) by the time. We must then define rhythm, foot,
beat. Beat, Latin ictus, is metrical accent, the beat, that is the Beat
strong beat, as the accent is the strongest accent, is the strongest
beat of a foot, hfoot is two or more syllables, running to as many Foot
as four or five, grouped about one strong beat. The smaller
feet are sometimes paired — two of the same or of different kinds.
LECTURE notes: RHETORIC
and make kind of double feet avl^vylaSi syzygi^Sy compound feet,
ti^rpov or SiTToSw double feety which are called in Greek fjJrpa, Thus the
common metre of the Greek tragedies answering in the main to
our ten syllable blank verse line has six iambic feet but in three
pairs of pirpa and is called a trimeter. In the heroic measure on
the contrary the longer dactyl or spondee is itself a pLCTpov and so
the line is called a hexameter. The longer feet and the double
p,€Tpa have a secondary beat as some words have a secondary
! If , t //
accent — incomprehensibley underneath.
Greek names of The Greeks have given names to the feet from two syllables
feet up to four and to one of five syllables. They are pyrrhicL
TTvppLxto£y ^ ^ ; spondee^ oTrovhclos — ; iamby lapPogy ^ - ; trochee\
TpoxdLosy x^p^^osy three syllables — tribrachy rpi-
Ppaxvs, ^ ^ ^ ; paKx^iosy paKx^iaKosy bacchiuSy ^ — ; TroAt/ijSa/c-
;^€fcos“, palimbacckiuSy — ^ ; KprjTtKosy ap(f>ipaKposy creticy amphi-
macer, - w - • dvaTraiarrosy anapaest y ; ScticrvAo?, dactyl, - v/ ^ ;
ap(l>ippaxvsy amphibrach, ^ ; poXooGo^, molossus, ; for four
syllables — TrpoKeXcvaparLKog, proceleusmatic, ^ ; naLojv npw-
Tos, first paeon, - v/ u ; 77. Scvrepog, second paeon, ^ - ^ ^yir. rplios,
third paeon, tt. rerapros, fourth paeon, Icovikos a
majore, long-to-short Ionic, — 1 . a minore, short-to-long Ionic,
— ; Stta/xjSo?, double iamb, v - ^ ; Strpoxatos, Bix^p^ios,
double trochee, - ;(opta/ij9o?, choriamb, - ^ ^ - (= trochee -f
iamb) ; avrlaTraaros, antispast, ^ (= iamb + trochee);
imrpiTos TrpwTos, first epitrite, ^ ; second, - ^ — ; third,
— w - ; fourth, ; StcTTroi'Seto?, double spondee, . The
dochmius, hoxiiios, ^ with many variations is sometimes
counted a foot, but is rather a plrpov. Examples — brevis, longi,
breves, long^s, brevia, canebant, longique, perbreves, canerent, longaque,
brevisque, longinqui, breviaque, plurimaque, brevissima, brevibusque,
celeritas, longissima, breviores, brevissimi, longiora, omnipotens,
Alexander, Alexandri, longitudo, longinquitas, longarumque, oratores
apoisanddems^ These feet are each divided into syllables from two to four or
--ratios of feet j^to times from two to eight. Each also has its rising and falling
cadence, apaiv and Bemv, levationem and positionem, dividing it in
the ratio \, 1, f, J, f, f, |, f, or |. But the division and so the
ratio may sometimes be made in or more than one way, as
may be ^ or f. dpms and Biais confusedly used, sometimes for
weak and strong, which is better, sometimes for strong and weak.
They mean by rights the rise and falling of the hand or foot in
beating time, the plausus or ictus in which the fall is the strong
place, the rise the weak, but have been perhaps confused with
the rise and fall of the voice, in which it is the other way
rhythm and other structural parts 273
Feet may be mixed but the beat must be commonly the same
or nearly. The amphibrach repeated or mixed with other feet
is considered unlawful because of its very unequal division —
j .^ 3, to remedy which you must beat in the middle of the long
syllable, which is unpleasant. St. Austin’s pupil {de Musical) is
made to consider this rhythm intolerable — ‘Sujmas u op|tima, ||
faci|as |i hone,sta’
The repetition of feet, the same or mixed, without regard to
how long, is rhythm. Metre is the grouping of a certain number of
feet. There is no metre in prose though there may be rhythm.
A verse according to the ancients is a metre or piece of metre
consisting of two parts divided by a caesura. Caesura is the over-
lapping of words and feet, so that a foot contains parts of two
words and a word of two feet. But in modern verse a verse means
a complete metrical figure, a metrical unit, for as the foot is the
rhythmic unit, which it repeats, so a verse is the metrical unit
of repetition. It may be a line or couplet or triplet or stanza — quat-
rain, octet etc. A line is an intermediate division between foot
and verse, like a clause and marked off by rhyme or other
means — for we must judge by the ear not by reading and the eye
We may now say of rhythm i.e. verse that it is the recasting of
speech into sound-words, sound-clauses and sound-sentences of
uniform commensurable lengths and accentuations. The foot is
the rhythmic word with its strong beat for the emphatic accent,
the ^erpov or bar the rhythmic sub-clause, the verse or stanza the
rhythmic sentence. And music is the recasting of speech used
in a wide sense, of vocal utterance, into words, clauses, and
sentences of pitched sounds having uniform etc as above. The
musical syllable is the note, the musical foot or word the bar, the
bars in double time stand for double feet or fiirpa and for, say,
unverbal sub-clauses, the strains or phrases for wing-clauses, the
passage or melody down to the cadence for the sentence, the
movement for the paragraph, the piece for the discourse. One
may add that the modulation into another key stands for the
suspension, the return to the first key for the recovery. Also rests
are allowed for in the verse of the ancients and, though not pro-
fessedly, in ours (there are instances collected from Shakespeare^)
like the rests in music : see St. Austin de Musica bk. 3.^
Feet give their names to the rhythms that are made out of
them. There is iambic, trochaic, dactylic, anapaestic, bacchic,
paeonic, ionic, choriambic, antispastic, dochmiac rhythm.
Aristotle says^ that all TroiTyat?, that is creative art, is pLlp. 7 jGi,Sy
imitation, reproduction, representation and he says this of
verse, music, and dancing. The imitation or representation is of
B 6028
Mixing feet
Rhythm and
metre
Verse according
to the ancients
caesura
A verse in out
sense
How verse and
music stand to
speech
Rhythms and
their characters
T
S74 LECTURE NOTES! RHETORIC
character, feeling and action Kal rjOrf Kal ndOrj tccu rrpd^^ts
And so in fact it is commonly felt and said that feet and rhvthrns
have their particular character. In general when the short or light
syllables go before the long or strong, as in the iamb, the ana-
paest, the ionic a minore^ the third and fourth paeon, the rhythm
is forward and expresses present action. When it is the other way,
as in the trochee, dactyl, the ionic a majore, the first and second
paeons, it expresses succession and suits narrative. In considering
the character of a rhythm we must be careful to see what it
really is, not the easiest or most obvious way of scanning it
(‘Now the hungry lion roars’^ is iambic though it begins with k
trochee and ‘’Twas when the seas were roaring’^ trochaic thougl^
it begins with an iamb). Also the even rhythms, anapaestic)
dactylic, spondaic, ionic are more monotonous than the uneven,
iambic, trochaic, ere tic. More in detail the iambic^ is near the
language of common talk, as Aristotle says of Greek and the same
holds for English, and as modem verse is essentially spoken, not
sung, it is the staple rhythm in the Teutonic and Romance
languages: the ancients use it for dialogue. The trochaic^ is
tripping, ut idem dicit: it runs. It suits brisk narrative (”Twas
when the seas were roaring’), especially when not doubled.
When doubled it becomes grave and monotonous (‘Ah dis-
tinctly I remember’ and Hiawatha) . The dactyl is like the trochee
made graver without becoming heavier. It is the Greek epic foot
and it should be remarked that it is fitted for this by its essence,
for not only the verses go by dactyls and their alternative spon-
dees but even the narrative goes by dactyl movements, a strong
and two softs — that is/ by first lodging a line of summary or
preface and striking a keynote and then developing this and
playing it off; you might underscore these lines through the
Iliad^ and almost get the story from them — ‘ fMrjviv attSe, 0ea,
IJrjXTjidBeio JI 4 .xi'Xrjos | ovXofxcvrjv ... | cf 8-37 to. Trpojra SiaaTrjTTjv
€pL(TaPT€ I ArpeiBr]^ t€ amf dvSpwv Kal Bios | rls r ap
u<f>to€ decov epiBi ^vver^KC pax^adai; | A-qrovs Kal A 16s vlos • • • |
ovv€Ka rov Xpvcrqv rjrCpir)(T* dpqrrjpa j ArpeiBqs ’ etc. The English
hexameter does not closely represent the Greek, because its
alternative feet are rather trochees than spondees ; also there is no
counterpoise to the marked rhythm : in the Greek and Latin
there is the accent but you cannot use the quantity for this in
English without spoiling the rhythm. The spondee is solemn and
slow. The pyrrhich is very light : there cannot be an accentual
pyrrhich. The anapaest is grave and swift too. In English it is
very hard to tell whether to scan by dactyls, anapaests or amphi-
brachs (‘There came to the beach a poor exile of Erin’ — ‘One
rhythm and other structural parts 275
more unfortunate’ — ‘The Assyrian came down’) : the amphi-
brach has the most bound and canter — ^it leaps like waves. The
antispast is rocking and tumultuous : it gives a richer rhythm
than all others and under whatever name is common in the
Greek and Latin lyrical verse ; it appears also in Shakespeare’s
blank verse.* The cretic is brisk and tramping. The choriamb is
liquid and eloping. In general then there are three descriptions
of rhythm — upward or climbing (iamb, anapaest), downward or
dropping (trochee, dactyl), and central or rocking (amphibrach,
cretic, choriamb, antispast), the first suiting the drama, the
second epic and narrative, the last lyric verse. We must remem-
ber that in modern verse part of the office of rhythm is thrown
on rhyme and other things
Rhythm of prose — Aristotle^ says {Rhet. Ill viii) — ‘The shape Rhythm of
(or figure) of the diction must not be metrical nor yet unrhyth- P^^se
mical. The first of these breeds distrust : it seems artificial and
moreover it stands out and catches the ear, making the hearer on
the watch for resemblances, when the chime will come again. In
fact it is like a public manumission, when the boys take the word
out of the crier’s mouth and when he asks/ Whom does the
emancipated man choose for his patron? shout Cleon, On the
other hand what is unrhythmical is unbounded. Now it should
be bounded, though not by metre, for the unbounded is un-
pleasant and unintelligible. Number puts a bound on every-
thing and the number (or count) of the figure of the wording is
rhythm: metres are sections of this. There should then be
rhythm in speaking but not metre (which would make it poetry),
but not exact rhythm. Partial rhythm will be what we want.’
He then names three rhythms — the heroic (dactyls with alterna-
tive spondees), which has the ratio I ; the iambic and the trochaic,
which are J and f ; and the paeonic, which is f or He groups
the rhythms in fact by their ratios. The heroic he rejects as too
solemn for speaking and needing music. The iamb he says is
actually what people talk in^ and chance verses are oftenest
iambics : he rejects it for want of dignity — and the trochee for
the same reason : it dances. The paeon he says, the first paeon,
has been in use with orators since Thrasymachus, as it should be.
‘The other rhythms must be put aside for the above reasons and
because they are metrical and the paeon adopted : it is the only
one of those named which by itself does not make metre, so that
it passes unnoticed the easiest.’ Only they should use not only
the first paeon, as they do, which suits beginnings, as ‘ AaXoyevesy
AvKLav ^ and ‘ ;^tKT€o/cdjLta ^EKarCy irai Jid? ’ (notice the
hiatus), but the other, the fourth, for the end, for the end should
Scanning of
rhythmic verse
— hy time, beat,
count, or two or
all of these
Saturnianverse^
2;6 LECTURE NOTES.* RHETORIC
be different from the beginning, as ^/lera Se ydv vSard t*
wK€av6v fi<j>avi(T€ vvi \ This gives an ending, for a short syllable
being incomplete cuts words off short. Now they ought to break
off with a long and the end be marked, not by a flourish of the
pen or anything the writer does but by the rhythm.’ We should
notice that the paeon is recommended by the complexity of its
ratio, which is hard to catch, and by its length, which makes the
longs and beats wide apart and so also hard to catch the particu-
lar rhythm of, though rhythmical. Instances of English accentual
paeons — ‘is no more glorjy than a mumlmy is a man’ (fourth)— r
r f
‘and such | losses are ir|reparable’ (first). Cicero^ did not agree
with Aristotle about paeons; no wonder, for Aristotle was\
speaking of Greek, in which accent went for next to nothing in
rhythm and was, if noticed, often on the last syllable, while in
Latin it is an element to be considered and is never on the last
so that Latin has essentially a dropping beat, which will not suit
with the final paeon. The Asiatic schooP of oratory liked to end
with the double trochee, which is free from the lightness or trip
of the single, and undoubtedly the dropping cadence satisfies the
f ft ^ ft ,
ear. ‘Lost, ( lost for ever’ or ‘and that loss [ everlasting’. Cretics
t ft t u f ft
— ‘first the mutton | overboiled, | then the beef | underdone’—
f If
brisk and resolute. AntLspasts — ‘Dulness | perhaps often, | at
/ n t //
times sadness, | regret never’
We have said that rhythm may be accentual or quantitative,
that is go by beat or by time. It may be both or it may be neither
but only have what is common to both. This is count or number
in a narrow sense. There is also bare beat without count. I am
not aware of mere time without beat, unless in chanting perhaps.
The count may be by the number of syllables, each to count one,
as in French, or it may be by the shortest syllable (the arj^ieiov,
whence xP^vos rplcrrjfios etc), as in Greek, or by the weakest
syllable, as in English. For rhythm without count of syllable see
Saturnian verse —
♦Marcus Publius Vertuleii, Gaii filii
fit ft;
Quod re sua diffidens | aspere afflicta
f ^ t t Iff
Parens timens hie vovit, | voto hoc soluto,
♦ From a stone at Sora. Not later than 620. U.C. (133. b.c.), perhaps
more probably at the very beginning of the century (113) (Ritschl)
rhythm and other structural parts 277
/ t f J f . f
Decuma facta pollucta, | liberi libentes
/ / f . f , f f
Donum danunt Herculi maxime merito,
/ / / / / /
Simul te orant se voti | crebro condemnes
and
♦Cornelius Lucius | Scipio Barbatus
. ' ' ' ' . ' '
Gnaivod patre prognatus | fortis vir sapiensque,
, / / / / / /,
Quoius forma virtu|tei parisuma fuit : (?)
/ t f ^ I f t
Consul, censor, aidilis | quei fuit apud vos, (?)
f , f , f f f f ,
fTaurasia, Cisauna | Samnio cepit,
Subigit Jomne Loucanam | opsidesque abdoucit
or —
/ f f f t
Fato Metelli fiunt Romae§ consules^
or this —
/ t f t
March dust, April showers
j ! / /
Bring forth May flowers
f j
In April
/ /
In May
/ /
In June
t f
In July
t t
In August
Come he will,
I f
He sings all day,
f , /
He changes his tune,
f f
He prepares to fly,
/ /
Go he must
or Piers the Plowman ^ —
/ / ^ f t
What this mountain bemeneth | and this derke dale
f t f f f / /
And this feire feld, ful of folk | feire I schall ow schewe.
t t I r t
A lovely ladi on leor | in linnene iclothed
Al hou bisy thei ben I aboute the mase ?
/ / ' ' ' 1
The moste parti of the peple | that passeth nou on eorthe
* On L. Cornelius Scipio Barbatus consul 456. ‘The inscription dates
not later thsm 520. U.C/ (233. B.c.) Ritschl.
t Taurasiam Cisaunam Samnium. f /
+ omnem. § Perhaps Romau
Rough English
accentual verse
LECTURE notes; RHETORIC
278
The beat varies for the most part between anapaestic and iambic
or dactylic and trochaic but it is so loose that not only the
syllables are not counted but not even the number of beats in a
line, which is commonly two in each half-line but sometimes
three or four. It almost seems as if the rhythm were disappearing
and repetition of figure given only by the alliteration. The
Saturnian is stricter: three beats to a half-line are commonly
reckoned but I suspect that two are allowed in the ending in
long words. It must have been chanted, as the beats as often as
The same not disagree with the word-accents. This beat-rhythm allows of
developed development as much as time-rhythm wherever the ear or mind
is true enough to take in the essential principle of it, that beali^
is measured by stress or strength, not number, so that one strong ;
may be equal not only to two weak but to less or more. In
English great masters of rhythm have acted on this :
Shakespeare^-
and —
and —
and —
GampbelP —
/ / / /
Toad that under cold stone
f t ^ t I
Sleep thou first i’th charmed pot
/ / /
Why should this desert be ?
f f f /
Thou for whom Jove would swear-
f f f t
As ye sweep through the deep — ;
Hamilton^-
and
tf t f f r If
Busk ye, busk [ ye, my bonny bonny bride
T, " 1 ' 1 " 1 1 ' '
Busk ye, busk | ye, my winsome marrow
f tf f ft ' '
Then build, then build, ye sisters, sisters sad,
I ff I " , . " , . , '
Ye sisters sad, his tomb with sorfow —
It is the counterpointing upon an eight- or nine-syllabled four-
beat iambic or trochaic line of a rhythm of six beats in two parts,
unequal in length but balanced in strength, or if you like of six
beats in the first and third lines and five in the others, and these
beats so subtly hung and distributed and balanced that scarcely
any two are alike. In general the system of alternative feet can-
rhythm and other structural parts 279
not be fully worked out in accentual verse, for when we put a
three-syllable foot for a two-syllable we are changing not only
the foot but the beat and the rhythm : anouy Iser^ for rolling her
or silvery cipher^ for silver ciphers is not a dactyl for a spondee
(2 + 1 + 1 for 2+2) but a dactyl for a trochee (2 + I+I =
4 for 2 + 1 =3)
On the other hand there is verse reckoned by count alone, French
French. It has in fact an average rhythm, which is iambic in
lines of even syllables, trochaic of odd, always abating the
feminine rhymes. But this beat is so faint that it falls on the weak
final ^’s, as —
/ / / /
A la porte de la salle
t t ^ ! t
Ils entendirew/ du bruit :
/ t ^ t t
Le rat de wWle d6tale,
/ ft!
Son camarade le suit.^
This is made endurable by the lightness and by the marked
pitch of the syllables
In Italian Ijoth count and beat are employed but the beat is Italian, etc
weaker than with us. Thus you may have trochees in the second
foot of a five-foot iambic or indeed in any place but the last ; in
English commonly only in the first, as —
t t t t / ,
In the deep bosom of the ocean buried.^
Thus —
t f t ft
Canto I’arme pietose e ’1 capitano^
and
Qiiesta selva selvaggia ed aspra e forte.®
This arises from weakness or from equal strength of syllable accent
rather than from counterpointing. The same holds for Spanish
etc perhaps.
In Greek the scanning is by time and rhythmic beat, that is Greek and
beat belonging only to the rhythm-words, not to the sense-words.
The accent of the words, the sense-words, goes for nothing. It
was probably tonic accent and so disappeared in chanting.
Whatever emphatic accent there was would then also disappear
and being weak not be missed, besides that it would probably
often agree with the beat of the verse. In course of time the tonic
accent of Greek became emphatic accent and gave rise to accen-
tual verse, the so-called political verse ^ which is in use now. At
the same time the old time-verse became dead verse, verse of a
28 o
LECTURE notes; RHETORIC
dead language. Latin accent was probably both tonic and em-
phatic. It plays an important unacknowledged part in Latin
verse, as will be noticed presently, by way of counterpoint
Sungy spoken. In conclusion, quantitative verse, as Greek and Latin, is sung
andcomud or chanted^ accentual verse, as ours, is spoken, French verse is
counted, Italian is counted and spoken too
Monotony of Bare rhythm would be monotonous. Monotony is prevented
rhythm how in the following ways —
prevented gy mere change of the words, like fresh water flowing
through a fountain or over a waterfall, each gallon taking on the
same shape as those before it —
(ii) By caesura, the breaking of the feet, or in other words th^
breaking up of the rhythm into sense-words of different length^
from the sound-words. When the caesura is fixed by rule we have
rhythmic counterpoint. By counterpoint I mean the carrying on
of two figures at once, especially if they are alike in kind but very
unlike or opposite in species. The more marked the rhythm
whether by quantity or beat the more need of a marked caesura
to break it. Hence in the Greek and Latin hexameter it falls
either so as to halve the third foot or the fourth foot : if it fell
earlier or later it would divide the line too unequally, if between
the third and fourth feet it would not break the rhythm. The
same rule holds for the iambic trimeter. In the pentameter the
break in the middle divides the line equally indeed but it leaves
a foot unfinished, so as to give the equation 2J+2I = 5. (The
hexameter and iambic trimeter have the equation =6
or 3jH-2| = 6). Yet even so it is too monotonous to be repeated
twice running. The English ten-syllable iambic (made use of in
Italian, German, and sometimes in French) may be divided
three ways so as to avoid monotony and yet have balance — first
between the second and third feet, which gives 2+3 = 5, next
between the third and fourth (3+2 = 5), lasdy breaking the
third foot (2J+2J = 5). This last is not monotonous like the
pentameter, because the foot is reversed after the break
ft / ft
Of that forbidden || tree whose mortal taste — '
though the number of syllables is the same : in fact the number
of beats is different. (Or say —
/ / ' ' . /
Without unspotted, || innocent within — ).*
In the pentameter the order and number of beats is the same.
(In the hexameter it is usually equal, 3 against 3, sometimes 4
against 2 or rather 2+2+2 —
9 f 9 t r . / .
Nonne vides |1 ut praecipiti || certamine campi — ,
RHYTHM AND OTHER STRUCTURAL PARTS 281
in the iambic trimeter 2 against 4 or 3 against 3). The Sapphic
line is divided by Horace either into 9 times against 9 (Jam satis
t t t
terris || nivis atque dirae* = 2 + 3+4 (= 9) II 2+3+4 (= 9))
ft/ t t
or 10 against 8 (Mercuri facunde || nepos Atlantis^ = 5+5
(= 10) II 3+5 (= 8)), but in either case three beats against 2.
In the French alexandrine the caesura divides the verse
equally, without breaking either a word or a foot, but this is in
fact dividing it into two six-syllable feet and the beat is so faint
that without this it would be a pell mell of syllables. In the
English alexandrine Spenser commonly divides in the same way
but sometimes thus —
J t f f ft
Wrapt in eternal silence, far from enemies-
but Byron always in the other. However the Alexandrine as they
use it and as it is found in heroic couplets is exceptional. For its
nature as an independent rhythm one must consult Drayton’s
Potyolbion and Browning’s Fijine.
(iii) By the tonic accent of the words, especially in French. It
is an assistance to accentual verse by giving us the means to
weaken heavy syllables and heighten weak ones. In Greek the
tonic accent would disappear in chanting but the remembrance
of where it fell would give a certain variety, not regular but
haphazard
Here we may include the tonic accent of sense, the inflection
of the voice to bring out the meaning
(iv) By the emphatic accent of the words. In Greek this was
probably so slight as not to be felt, in French it is felt but is
haphazard. In Latin it was marked and was made use of by the
poets, especially the great masters of metre as Horace and Ovid
to give a counterpoint beat by which they produced forms, as
especially the Latin pentameter and Sapphic, though less flexible
more organic than the corresponding Greek ones or any others
perhaps. That a difficulty about the working of the word-accent
and the verse-accent together was felt can be shewn by this, that
Propertius nowhere (in some thousands of lines) uses a word
ending in an enclitic que etc^ and therefore accented the
dactyl at the end of a hexameter and only one such dactyl
in the second half of the pentameter. But Ovid and Virgil use
both —
Italiam fdto pnSfiigus Lavinaque venit — *
V •/ •/ •/ V' , ■/
Lapsdque sub terras ortaque signa canam —
283
LECTURE notes: RHETORIC
both in prominent places. The counterpoint of the pentameter
is commonly this —
Cum mdla per 16ngas convaluere m6ras/ — *
V'. V' . •// •/
Cujus non animo dulcia lucra f6rent — *
In the last the two accentings agree only on the syllable sig in
signa. The case of the Latin Sapphic is still more striking. The
word-accents are made to run —
/ / / \/ // f/
Jam sdtis | t^rris || nivis atque dirae
// / / / //
Grandinis [ misit H pater et rubente —
or
r f .
Mercdri | facunde || n^pos Atlantis —
// t If ff If
Dives et lasciva 1| tenetque grata — ^
If I If I
Nuntium curvaeque || l^rae parentem — ^
They give in fact the so-called English sapphic of the Needy
Knifegrinder and a passage ofKehama,^ In'English Milton made
experiments in accentual counterpoint, as —
H6me to His mother’s house private returned — ^
Here the beat of the line has to be carried in the mind : it is not
expressed
Under this head we may include emphasis of meaning
RHYTHM AND OTHER STRUCTURAL PARTS 283
(v) Smoothness or break of vowel sound, as in circumflex. In
the first line of the Iliad are two circumflexes in strong places and
a break (synizesis) also in a strong place. Dryden uses them to
heighten his rhythm — as tyrant. Also strong consonants as the
nasals and liquids — bound, ‘we come’ and ‘drum’ in Come if you
dare
(vi) All intermittent elements of verse, as alliteration, rhyme
It should be understood that these various means of breaking Breaking the
the sameness of rhythm and especially caesura do not break the monotony does
unity of the verse but the contrary ; they make it organic and
what is organic is one. All the parts of water are alike but the
parts of man’s body differ and man’s individuality is marked but
the individual being a waterdrop has is gone when it falls into
water again. And in everything the more remote the ratio of the
parts to one another or the whole the greater the unity if felt at
all, as in the circle and ellipse, for the circle is felt to be more at
one and one thing than the ellipse, yet the ratio of its circum-
ference to its diameter is undiscoverable, whereas there must be
one ellipse in which it is 3 : i and any number of others in which
it is any ratio we like to take between tt and 2.
(4) iMtering of syllables (see above) — Lettering of
To this belong rhyme, alliteration, assonance. They are all a
sameness or likeness of some or all of the elementary sounds, the
letters, of which syllables are made. Syllables so agreeing or
resembling may be said to chime or widely rhyme but we keep
rh)7ne for a more special or narrower sense. When they are
used as intermittent figures of verse they must be emphatic
syllables
It is natural to begin with alliteration, which is the easiest. It is Alliteration
the beginning with the same sound, as may, must, man, mother
wiih m ; that is/ with the same consonant or with any vowel, for
all vowels alliterate, probably on account of the catch in the
mouth (what people wrongly call the smooth breathing) or of
the rustle (which is nearer), which is the same in all. There-
fore the line —
And apt Alliteration’s artful aid —
alliterates but not for the reason the writer thought, for in the
six alliterated syllables there are at least three vowels (reading
<ind and alliteration without slur), not one only — the hard or dry
short a ; the long shut English a the Italian long e ; and the long
broad a
Any vowels then alliterate but with a soft or imperfect alli-
teration, but in consonants only the same and those perfectly.
LECTURE notes: RHETORIC
Perhaps there is a very soft alliteration between a consonant and
its belonging aspirate— ;/> and /, b and v etc. But the belonging
pairs of sharps and flats, as p and 4, t and rf, th in thick and th
(dh) in there, do not and offend the ear if represented as doing so,
just because of their nearness. The best alliterations are in em-
phatic monosyllables or first syllables. Emphatic syllables later
in the word will alliterate with consonants but not so well as the
initial ones. When vowels alliterate in this way it is rather
assonance than alliteration. All initial syllables alliterate, but
faintly if unemphatic
Alliteration Alliteration was an essential element in Anglo-Saxon or did
where employed English verse, as Piers the Plowman, also in Icelandic. As a grace
but unessential it is often used in prose and very thickly in Latih
verse, more sparingly in Greek, thickly in modern English verse';
one may indeed doubt whether a good ear is satisfied with our
verse without it. It is common in proverbs of course (Faint
heart never won fair lady)
*Half-rhyme\ In Icelandic verse an opposite kind of alliteration (skothend-
skothending ma.dc: use of, namely ending with the same consonant
but after a different vowel, as bad led, find band, sin run (from
Marsh’^, who calls it half -rhyme). This also is a grace but less
marked
Assonance Between these two comes assonance. It is sameness of vowel in
syllables. It may be single, as in meet and sleep, or double, as in
meeting and evil
Assonance This is made great use of in Spanish verse, sometimes with
where employed rhyme, sometimes instead of rhyme. The effect in English is
faint, but still just appreciable. However we must be very careful
that the syllables are really assonant : some of MacCarthy’s^ are
not, as matter and answer, entangled and many. When used with or
for rhyme it must be in emphatic syllables etc, in fact in the
same places as the rhymes would be in. Although pure assonance
is, so far as I know, only used regularly in Spanish and Portu-
guese verse it plays a wide part as an unessential grace and
finish in prose and verse elsewhere and gives a very subtle
beauty to it or this is given by vowelling, which is either vowellin§
on (assonance) or vowelling off or changing of vowel down some
scale or strain or keeping. Euripides is a great master of this
vowelling. Marsh gives a beautiful piece of vowelling as an
instance of imitative rhythm from ‘Wild’s celebrated nameless
poem’—
On that lone shore loud moans the sea^
• What wc call rhyme they call Salhending.
RHYTHM AND OTHER STRUCTURAL PARTS 285
Let US distinguish in a syllable a beginning, middle, and end Rhyme
or its initial sound, its final sound, and its stem of sound, this
middle or stem being essential, the others not. The middle or
stem of the syllable will be a vowel sound, one or more vowels,
the other two parts consonantal, one or more consonants. 0 or
owe has only the stem ; no, know the stem and initial ; own the
stem and final; known all three. Rhyme then as defined for
English will be an agreement or sameness of sound between
strong syllables in different words, beginning with the stem or
vowel of these syllables and continuing to the end of the corre-
sponding feet, which must be the end of the words also or must
end with words, whether the strong syllables have final sounds
or not and whether they are followed by other, weak syllables or
not. Commonly the rhymes end the line, sometimes a half-line,
but in any case mark off certain bars or clauses. The words must
be different both in sense and sound: know and no are not a
rhyme. It follows therefore that one at least of the rhyming
syllables must have an initial sound, as know and owe^ and better
if both have, as know and so. This initial sound by which the
rhymes or rhymie-fellows differ is thus part of the rhyme or is
essential to it. If one syllable rhymes to one syllable, as know to
owe the rhyme is single; if two to two, as knowing to owing^
double ; if three to three, as knowing it to owing it^ treble ; if four
to four quadruple, as ‘Mr Merryman is^ to ceremonies in the
Rejected Addresses^
The following are imperfect rhymes — (i) when the vowels Imperfect
differ : This may be as long and short, e.g. came and them, meet rhymes
and it, etc, and this is very lawful and sometimes even graceful
when we keep up the true correspondences but not when we
make day rhyme to Africa, as Browning^ does, or lay to Cophetua,
as Tennyson,^ which are no rhymes at all, or by to cruelly, which
is a convention and licence but scarcely any rhyme : originally it
was a rhyme ; — or it may be by taking neighbouring vowels in
one of the vowel scales, as love and of, for both are moulded or
labial and short and dry, or love and prove, for both are moulded
or labial, or bear and near, for both are shut and long and cir-
cumflexed : but here English writers are not guided by the ear
but by the eye, for love and prove is far commoner than luck and
duke or even luck and shook, which is a bad principle — there is
and should be more licence in double rhymes than in single and
when consonants follow than when the vowels are open ; — (ii)
when the consonants differ : this may be as sharp and flat, e.g.
as vice and size, breathe and wreath, and this is commonly practised
with the sibilants and aspirates but is scarcely lawful for other
286
LECTURE notes: RHETORIC
single consonants, as met and said; or as nasal and hard, like
women and trimming--this of n and ng is the only case lawful—
here also English writers are faultily guided by the eye and here
also there is more licence in double rhymes and when there are
several consonants instead of one, as balance^ talons, gallants,
which are almost as good as perfect rhymes. — (iii) When one or
both of the rhyming syllables has a subordinate accent, as meant
and innocent or government and innocent ; (iv) when a letter is bor-
rowed from a syllable before to difference the rhyme, as member
and di-smember, or thrown back on it, dism-ember; (v) when orye
word rhymes with two or more and those not enclitic the one o|n
the other, as in minute and in it, but like chimney and slim knee iiji
Rejected Addresses^ or instinct and quince-tinct in Browning’s Flight ojf
the Duchess,^ for then they do not agree in quantity and distribu-,
tion of accent ; (vi) when the rhyme ends in the middle of a word,
if for instance the word is partly in one line, partly in another
Rhyme to the The so-called rhyme to the eye is when the syllables are spelt
(ye and ear alike, as plough and though and cough and rough and enough, but this
is a fiction, there is no rhyme but to the ear : rhyme to the eye is
the correspondence of parts in pictorial art or in an infinity of
natural things as the two eyes and the two sides of the body
generally, butterfly’s wings, paired leaves, shadows in glass or
water. Of the above words rough and enough are perfect rhymes,
plough and though, cough and rough respectively imperfect, and
plough and rough none at all. Rhyming to the eye in no way helps
the rhyme, rather the contrary, for there are two elements in the
beauty rhyme has to the mind, the likeness or sameness of sound
and the unlikeness or difference of meaning, and the last is
lessened by any likeness the words may have beyond that of
sound. For this reason words of like grammatical form make
poorer rhymes, participles etc, as going and knowing, singest and
wingest, ever and never, brother and mother, but mother and other is a
rich rhyme.
Unlawful Unlawful rhymes—We may notice (i) mere eye-rhymes; (ii)
rhymes m and n, for though they are like enough roughly to satisfy the
ear they offend the mind by the essential difference between a
labial and a dental; (iii) open moist vowek and syllables ending
in mute r, as higher and Thalia : this rhyme is perfect to the ear
where, as commonly, the r is not trilled but the knowledge that
it is there dormant in the one word and not in the other is very
offensive to a trained taste and the fault cannot be excused by
Keats’ authority^
Licences in Licences in rhyme— (i) to treat different words of the same
rhyme sound as true rhymes, as / and eye, eve and eave etc : this may per“
RHYTHM AND OTHER STRUCTURAL PARTS 287
haps be called a rhyme to the mind ; (ii) assonances — as gloty
and for thee: Mrs. Browning and Miss Rossetti have used them
among others ; they are also found in ballads and Scotch native
poetry : this and the former case are rather substitutes for rhyme
than rhymes ; (iii) in general, the use of any imperfect rhyme
It will be seen that all these verse figures under no. 4 . are Alliteration,
reducible to the principle of rhyme, to rhyme or partial rhyme, assonance, etc
Alliteration is initial half-rhyme, ‘shothending’ is final half-
rhyme, assonance is vowel rhyme. There is a beautifully rich
combination of them in Norse poetry, especially of initial and
final consonant rhyme leaving out the vowel, the effect of which
is not that the vowels go for nothing but that they seem to be sided
or intentionally changed, vowelled off. Here is one instance —
Hilmir hjalma skurir
herSir sverSi rofinu,
hrjdta hvitir askar,
hrynja brynja spangir ;
hnykkja Hlakkar eldar
harfia svarSar landi,
remma rimmu gloSir
randa grand of jarli.^
and of his own —
5o/tly now are ji/ting
Snows on landscape frozen,
ThicA/y /all the/laWets,
FeatheryAight together,
? Shower of diver powring,
Soundless, all Siround us,
FieW and river folding
Fddr in mantle rarest , — *
The peculiarity of this Norse verse is that the rhyme is not em-
ployed to mark off lines or bars or clauses. The same kind of
rhyme combined with ours, the final rhyme, is employed in
Italian : Marsh gives two beautiful specimens, a stanza of ottava
rima from Pulci^ and a sonnet from a note in the works of Redi,^
the first of vowel-less rhyme (casa cosa, bretta brutta), the other of
full rhyme. In English he instances —
Lightly and brightly breaks away
The morning from her mantle grey — ^
from Byron and —
Her look was like the morning star — ^
from Burns. The instance from Byron is richly lettered
LECTURE notes: RHETORIC
Employment of
rhyme
Holding of
syllables
All the elements
of verse redu-
cible to rhyme^
rhythm, and, one
may add, music
Metres
Rhyme is employed in the East as well as the West. Probably
it tends to arise in any accentual language. The Chinese use it
and the Arabs and it occurs in Hebrew as an occasional grace.
In the West it was and is employed in Celtic verse (though the
instances of Gaelic verse I find in a grammar are rather asso-
nance) and is thought to have entered Romance poetry from
the Celts, appearing first, it is said, in the Latin hymns of the
Milanese ritual and so spreading; but this seems unlikely. The
Latin of that date as well as the late Greek was accentual and
so naturally both gave rise to rhyme e.g. Die nobis, Maria} etc.
The Icelandic verse, as above, is richly rhymed. In our times
and for a very long time Teutonic as well as Romance verse b
rhyming
(5) Holding of syllables — ^This is the having pure or in any way
broken vowel-sound, circumflexes diphthongs etc. Circumfiexed
or broken vowels and diphthongs make the syllable more than an
ordinary syllable, between one and two, and so give it length or
strength, weight, gravity. Thus the first line of the Iliad has two
circumflexes and a break (the synizesis €a>), all in strong places
of the rhythm. In English the difference of strength between
syllables is very great, as between fit and fired, muck and mourned,
whip and whelmed
In general all the elements of verse may be reduced to (i)
Rhyme, in a wide sense, which depends on lettering; (2)
Rhythm, which depends on strength or on length of syllable;
and (3) if we like to include it, music, which springs from tonic
accent or pitch. These are variously combined in metre, there
should therefore here follow something on the principal metres
And after that on the different kinds of poetry — epic, dra-
matic, lyric, elegiac etc
POETRY AND VERSE
Is all verse poetry or all poetry verse? — Depends on definitions is all poetry
of both. Poetry is speech framed for contemplation of the mind
by the way of hearing or speech framed to be heard for its own
sake and interest even over and above its interest of meaning.
Some matter and meaning is essential to it but only as an ele-
ment necessary to support and employ the shape which is con-
templated for its own sake. (Poetry is in fact speech only em-
ployed to carry the inscape of speech for the inscape’s sake — and
therefore the inscape must be dwelt on. Now if this can be done
without repeating it once of the inscape will be enough for art and
beauty and poetry but then at least the inscape must be under-
stood as so standing by itself that it could be copied and re-
pealed. If not/ repetition, oftening, over-and-overing^ qftering of the
inscape must take place in order to detach it to the mind and in
this light poetry is speech which afters and oftens its inscape,
speech couched in a repeating figure and verse is spoken sound
having a repeating figure.) Verse is (inscape of spoken sound,
not spoken words, or speech employed to carry the inscape of
spoken sound — or in the usual words) speech wholly or partially
repeating the same figure of sound. Now there is speech which
wholly or partially repeats the same figure of grammar and this
may be framed to be heard for its own sake and interest over and
above its interest of meaning. Poetry then may be couched in
this, and therefore all poetry is not verse but all poetry is either
verse or falls under this or some still further development of what
verse is, speech wholly or partially repeating some kind of figure
which is over and above meaning, at least the grammatical,
historical, and logical meaning
But is all verse poetry? — ^Verse may be applied for use, e.g, to Is all verse
help the memory, and then is useful art, not pLovGiKrj (Thirty
days hath September’ and ‘Propria quae maribus’ or Livy’s
Imendum carmen) and so is not poetry. Or it might be composed
without meaning (as nonsense verse and choruses — ‘Hey nonny
nonny’ or ‘Willc wau wau wau’ etc) and then alone it would not
he poetry but might be part of a poem. But if it has a meaning
and is meant to be heard for its own sake it will be poetry if you
take poetry to be a kind of composition and not the virtue or
success or excellence of that kind, as eloquence is the virtue of
oratory and not oratory only and beauty the virtue of inscape
and not inscape only. In this way poetry may be high or low,
B 6628 U
POETRY AND VERSE
Verse wholly or
partially re-
peats the same
figure of sound
— this ex-
plained
Verse distin-
guished from
music
Running or
intermittent
repetition of the
figure
ago
good or bad, and doggrel will be poor or low poetry but not
merely verse, for it aims at interest or amusement. But if poetry
is the virtue of its own kind of composition then all verse even
composed for its own interest's sake is not poetry
Kinds of Verse —
Verse then is speech wholly or partially repeating the same
figure of sound. Partially as ‘Jam satis terris nivis atque dirae’—
that is / - Ly - - I - u - I o - - for the common measure
(= ^ -) is repeated throughout, wholly when you add ‘Gram-
dinis misit Pater et rubente’; or partially, taking the wh^le
stanza, for it repeats the same figure for three lines but gives lip
in the fourth, but wholly if you take two stanzas. More clearly
such an iambic as this —
a partial repetition only, for this is verse though you did not add
another line, and this is a whole repetition — ^ | ^ | u 1 1
It is speech because we must distinguish it from music which
is not verse. Music is composition which wholly or partially
repeats the same figure of pitched sound (it is the aftering of
pitched sound) . Verse must be spoken or capable of being spoken
The figure may be repeated runningly, continuously, as in
rhythm (ABABAB) or intermittently, as in alliteration and
rhyme (ABCDABEFABGH). The former gives more tone,
candorem, style, chasteness ; the latter more brilliancy, starriness,
quain, margaretting
[There are three artistic tones — candor, chasteness, ‘clear’,
which is diffused beauty; humour, which is diffused wit; and
pathos, which is diffused .]
NOTES
NOTES
[Page-numbers are given in heavy type; the small figures refer to the index-numbers in
the text]
NOTES TO EARLT DIARIES
3. 1 . 1862, This Journal extract is quoted from a letter to G. N. Luxmoore of
7 May 1862, which, with a long covering-letter from Luxmoore to Arthur
Hopkins of 13 June 1890, gives the best extant evidence for GMH’s school-
days (LL, iii. I and 394). He was at Highgate School Sept. 1854-
Apr. 1 863 ; for most of this time he was a day-boy, walking over from his
home at Hampstead, but was a boarder for part of it. GMH himself burnt
parts of this 1862 Journal on i June 1866 (see p. 138) ; no other parts have
been traced.
3. 2. Alexander Strachey (1846-1900), second son of Richard Strachey of Oak-
hill, Bath, was at Highgate only from Jan. 1861 to Dec. 1862. Pensioner,
Trinity, Cambridge 1863. No record of taking a degree. Married 1875.
3. 3. Clarke, Marcus Andrew Hislop (1846-81), became a prolific journa-
list in Australia and wrote several novels — the best known, For the Term
of His Natural Life, about convict life in Tasmania (1870). Son of William
Hislop Clarke, a barrister and bohemian; after his mother’s early
death lived precociously with his father’s friends (see his story Human
Repetends, Melbourne, 1881). At Highgate (1858-62), Cyril and Gerard
Hopkins were his chief friends (see The Marcus Clarke Memorial Volume, ed,
Hamilton Mackinnon, Melbourne, 1884, pp. 13 ff., and the same editor’s
Selected Works of Marcus Clarke, 1890, p. ii). GMH in 1862 thought he
wrote ‘very good poetry’ (LL,iii. 14), and called him ‘Marcus Scrivener’, ‘a
kaleidoscopic, parti-coloured, harlequinesque, thaumotropic being’ (an
entry in Clarke’s lost Highgate note-book, accepted as Gerard’s by Cyril
Hopkins) . His father died suddenly when he was 1 7, leaving hardly any
money, and he was shipped off to his uncle, Judge James Langton Clarke,
in Melbourne. In turn bank-clerk, bushman, editor of the Colonial Monthly,
and secretary of the Melbourne Public Library, he wrote a large number of
stories, sketches about life in Australia, critical articles, plays, and panto-
mimes, as well as three novels. He fell badly into debt, and died after a
severe illness, aged only 35. GMH noted his address in 1864, and Cyril
Hopkins kept up a correspondence with him. The Hopkins brothers recur
constantly in his stories and reminiscences. In the story Holiday Peak he
describes a might-have-been meeting with Gerard, become then a painter
(see Life, p. 4) and married to ‘Constantia*, having three children; and in
his novel Chidiock Tichboume there arc two characters called Gerrard and
Hopkins. See Brian Elliott, Marcus Clarke, OUP, 1958.
4 * I- Growth, Here begins the small pocket note-book hereafter described
C. I. It is inscribed on the end-paper ‘Gerard M. Hopkins,/ Sept. 24.
1863’. The opening pages have been removed. The text begins on the
NOTES TO EARLY DIARIES
m
lower half of a cut page with this fragment ‘growth . . ,young\ The ‘horn’
note starts on the verso of this half-page and runs on to the first full page,
which is numbered (by Hopkins himself) 15. The MS is mostly in pencil,
but a few parts have been written over in ink.
4. 2. com. After this word in MS is what appears to be a coronis (as given
again in the footnote), followed by a tiny drawing of a grain of com.
4« 3. Servius: on Aeneid, vii. 684, Herna — vox Sabina qua saxum signifi-
cabatur; cf. Pauli excerpta ex libris Pompei Festi de significatione verborum (ed,
W. M. Lindsay, Teubner, 1913), 100. ‘Hernici dicti a saxis, quae Marsi
hema dicunt.’
4.4. Oppian : KvvTjyeTiKdii. ig 2 :
ToifS €t K€ TL 9
avTLKa drjXvv eOrjKey npoirav S* dnepevae Kap'qvcov \
o^vKopLov Kcpdcov mXvSalBoXov aloXov epvos,
‘If one cut these out, straightway he makes the animal effeminate, and
from his head falls away all the daedal many-branched growth of sharp
horns* (trs. A. W. Mair, Loeb, 1928).
4. 5. Aristotle: Poetics I457*’33: 7 r€iTOL 7 ]p,€vov S’ icrrlv o oXcos /X17 koXov-
fievov VTTO TLvwv avTos rlderaL 6 {Sokcl yap evia ctvat rotaura),
OLov rd Kcpara ipvvyag Kal rov Upca dprjTrjpa, ‘A coined word is a name
which, being quite unknown among a people, is given by the poet him-
self; e.g. (for there are some words that seem to be of this origin) ipvvycs
for horns, and dprjrrjp for priest’ (trs. Bywater) . The form of the nominative
depends on the accent given in this place : epvvyas would give epvv^ ; ipvvya^
ipvvyr], Liddell and Scott assume it to be €pvv^.
5. I. Lays and Ballads . . by Menella Bute Smedley, London (Lumley),
1845.
5. 2. ManzonVs I Promessi Sposi: The Betrothed ... A New Translation . . .
2 vols, James Burnes, 1844. GMH may have been right about the transla-
tion: Menella Smedley the following year translated Manzoni’s ode,
Napoleon (published with W. Hauff’s Select Popular Tales) ^ She there appears
on the title-page as ‘S.M.’,
5. 3. onomatopoetic. Cf. Essay on the Origin of Language^ by Frederic Farrar,
1 860. Chapter IV argues for the ‘onomatopoetic origin of many words and
roots’, some of which are also mentioned here by Hopkins, e.g.
See also Abeokuta and the Cameroons Mountains, by Richard F, Burton, 1863:
‘The fine ears of the African vulgar attribute special words to every
unusual or artificial sound. The horn and the tom-tom, for instance,
express to them a great complication of ideas by onomatopoetic lan-
guage . . . .’
6 . I . Related in the manner of Arnold and Liddell, ‘The Legend’ parodies the
first chapter of The StudenVs Rome (abridged from Liddell’s History of AncM
Rome, 1855), one of John Murray’s ‘Student’s Series’ which GMH read at
Highgate; probably also Arnold’s Early History of Rome, of which the first
2 vols were mainly based on Niebuhr.
NOTES TO EARLY DIARIES
295
Hopkins is chiefly making fun of the rather solemn scepticism with
which they both treated the early Roman legends. Thomas Arnold was
Regius Professor of History at Oxford for the last year of his life 1841-2;
Liddell, Dean of Christ Church 1855-91.
6. 2. Lilius Candens. Fred Lilly white'* s Guide to Cricketers appeared as an
Annual 1849-66. Partridge’s view that the Oxford use of ‘scout’ is probably
from the military, ‘just possibly’ from the cricket sense, ‘fieldsman’, is no
more illuminating than that of the great Bentleius.
6. 3. chief magistracy, Robert Scott (181 1-87; see DjVB) had become Master
of Balliol in 1854 largely as a stop-gap to keep Jowett out; but was not the
cipher some writers on Jowett suggest. Joint editor, with Dean Liddell, of
the Greek-English Lexicon, Dean Ireland’s Professor of Exegesis 1861-70.
Dean of Rochester 1870, when Jowett succeeded him as Master. Some of
Hopkins’s undergraduate essays are initialled ‘R.S.’, for it was a Balliol
custom to write essays at intervals for the Master in addition to routine
work for the Tutors. For an appreciation of Scott as Master see P. A.
Wright-Henderson, Glasgow and Balliol from 1858 to 1865 and other Essays^
1926, the relevant essay reprinted from Blackwood'* s^ Mar. 1894; and for a
more critical picture. Sir Geoffrey Faber, Jowett^ I 957 j PP- 109-10, 206-7.
6. 4. Woolks. Edward Cooper Woollcombe (1816-80), also nicknamed
Tay’, because a slight impediment in his speech made him interpose this
syllable in the midst of his sentences. Pupil of J. H. Macaulay at Plymouth
and Repton. Oriel 1833. ist Classics 1837, Failed Oriel Fellowship 1838,
‘Newman reasonably enough resisting’ his election (M. Pattison, Memoirs^
p. 163). Elected Fellow of Balliol, along with Lonsdale, Lake, and Jowett,
Nov. 1 838. His ‘selection turned out afterwards to be a very great mistake*
(Pattison, p. 178). Tutor of Balliol 1840-69. Dean 1850. Rector of Tend-
ring, Essex, 1879. A gentle Tractarian, simple and courteous. He took
‘Gatechctics’, lectures in chapel on the doctrines of the Church of England,
which undergraduates had to summarize. Kept records of chapel atten-
dance. W. Anson (seep. 300) wrote to his mother in 1865 of Woollcombe,
‘he writes down minute entries in a book the size of a dining-room table,
and thinks himself the pillar of the college’. ‘What he gave us was all the
small change of scholarship, most conscientiously doled out. But the one
thing missing was grasp’ (W. Sanday) . He was one of Hopkins’s tutors for
Mods and there are extant essays written for him (see appx. IV, p. 530). See
A Memoir of Sir William Anson, ed. H. H. Henson ; P. A. Wright-Henderson,
Glasgow and Balliol*, Sir Geoffrey Faber, Jowett,
7 * I • thus. Here in MS after ‘To be continued’ follow the notes ‘See grind
etc.’, and then the narrative goes on with ‘Continued from last page*.
7 - 2. Gurney, Frederick (1841-98), was eldest son and one of the eight
children of John Hampden Gurney, Rector of St Mary’s, Bryanston
Square (see DNB), who died 1862; the children came under guardianship
of their uncle Russell Gurney, Recorder of London (see DNB), It seems
from letter of GMH to his mother of 23 Jan. 1864 as if Gurneys were
family friends. Frederick entered Balliol i860; 3rd Greats 1864. An active
NOTES TO EARLY DIARIES
296
member and ‘amanuensis* of the Brotherhood of the Holy Trinity, for
which he proposed both Addis and GMH as members 8 Dec. 1863 (see
p. 305). Member of the Hexameron (see p. 328). Curate at Bovey Tracey
1868-75; Vicar of St James the Less, Plymouth 1875-84, and of Prestbury,
Glos. 1884-90, For his marriage, see p. 385. His younger brother Edmund
became Fellow of Trinity, Cambridge and author of The Power of Sound and
various philosophical and psychical works (see DNB and LL, i. 84 and 171).
7. 3. Alban HalL The ancient Halls of the University were all, with the
exception of St Edmund Hall, absorbed into Colleges, as a result of the
University legislation of the 1870’s (Mallet, iii. 436). St Alban’s Hall, next
door to Merton College, was merged with it on the resignation of the Ust
Principal in 1882. The Halls were looked on as inferior institutions, refuges
for those who could not get into, or were sent down by, the Colleg^,
George Saintsbury records that an undergraduate of St Alban’s Hall, at
this date, used to stand at its gate to press passers-by to come in and share
with him the then almost unheard-of delight of afternoon tea. The im-
plication is that the Halls were the homes of such folly.
7* 4. grinding , . . hail. Cf. Loss of Eurydice^ 1. 27 :
‘Hailropes hustle and grind their | Heavengravel’ {Poems^ p. 77) .
8. I. Eustace Rivington (1844-75). With GMH at Highgate 1854-Dec.
1856. Uppingham 1859-60. Son of Francis, of the publishing family; and
brother of Luke (1838^9), the well-known High Church preacher and,
later, Cowley Father, who became a convert to Rome in 1888.
8 « 2. Water . . . lock. For a similar description of ‘Lasher from a canal at
Wolvercote’, see p. 19; and for rough sketch accompanying it, fig. 8.
9. I . The wind . . . silver. MS cancelled in pencil, probably by GMH himself.
9. 2. Baillie, Alexander William Mowbray (1843-1921), the youngest son
of George Baillie, MD, an Edinburgh doctor, was an intimate friend of
Hopkins at Balliol. Educ. Edinburgh Academy. Exh. to Balliol 1862; ist
Mods 1864; 1st Greats 1866, Joined Inner Temple 1866; called to Bar
1871. Equity draftsman and conveyancer; practised at 5 New Square,
Lincoln’s Inn. Because of ill-health went to Egypt in 1874 (see p. 262),
where he pursued his interests in Egyptian archaeology and language.
Hopkins’s letters to him were published in full by Prof. Abbott in 1938.
For an account of him by Miss Hannah, see LLy iii. 448-9 (note K);
and for two photographs, pp. 240 and 294. On GMH’s death, Baillie
wrote to Mrs Hopkins : ‘It is impossible to say how much I owe to him. He
is the one figure which fills my whole memory ofjny Oxford life. There is
hardly a reminiscence with which he is not associated. All my intellectual
growth, and a very large proportion of the happiness of those Oxford days,
I owe to his companionship. It has been a subject of unceasing regret to
me that circumstances have made me see so little of him since. His rare
visits gave me the keenest pleasure, and were eagerly looked forward to.
Apart from my own nearest relatives, I never had so strong an affection
for any one* (17 June 1889 : Bodl. MSS). Hopkins had a great affection for
him all his life and regretted that he did not see more of him.
NOTES TO EARLY DIARIES
297
g, 3. 'Purpurea . . . BritannV: Virgil, Georg, iii. 25.
9. 4. Reiss, Frederick Augustus (1843-1945). Balliol 1863-6. See LL, iii. 75
and note.
9. 5. Amcotts, Vincent Amcotts Cracroft- (1845-81), eldest son of Weston
Cracroft-Amcotts, of Hackthorn. Eton. Balliol 1863. 3rd Mods 1864;
3rd Law and History 1866. GMH described him in a letter, 4 May 1863
{LL, iii. 77) as ‘the Genteel Skeleton’ and said: ‘He plays the piano
brilliantly, and is the greatest dilettante in the college. He also writes very
good poetry. For the rest, as the French say, he is said to have delivered
his conscience in an envelope to the keeping of the Church, and raves
against Handel.* For some account of his undergraduate acting, writing of
plays, skits, &c., in which he was active with William Anson (sec p. 300)
in the Philothespians and ‘The Shooting Stars’, see Alan Mackinnon, The
Oxford Amateurs, Called to bar. Inner Temple 1867, but was soon active
as JP and DL in Lincolnshire. By his early death his father survived him
and was succeeded by the second son. The family still lives at Hackthorn.
9. 6. Lane, Clara S., eldest daughter of GMH’s great-uncle R. J. Lane
(see p. 420) , was a talented minor artist in watercolour and black-and-white.
Exhibited annually at the Society of Female Artists from foundation 1857
at least up to 1872, the peak being ii pictures 1865 and 12 1866. Most of
the work was watercolour studies of flowers and fruit, which the Art Journal
(Mar. 1867) praised as ‘truthful and effective’; but also figure-studies and
a portrait of Helen Faucit (1865). Exhibited similar work at RA 1856 (i),
1^57 (2), 1858 (i), 1859 (i), 1868 (i); in RA 1872 ‘Helen Faucit (Mrs
Theodore Martin)’; no more in RA up to 1880. She illustrated Mrs
Alfred Catty’s Aunt Judfs Tales (1859), from which Ruskin took the
definition of a weed as ‘a vegetable out of its place’, and said that ‘Aunt
Judy, in charming position after position, is shown to have expressed all
her pure evangelical principles with the prettiest of lips ; and to have had
her gown, though puritanically plain, made by one of the best modistes in
London’ ; this was a ‘suspicious sign of infirmity of faith in our modern
moralists’ {Proserpina, i. vi; Works, ed. Cook and Wedderburn, xxv. 282).
One Aunt Judy illustration ‘Nothing to Do’ was in RA 1859. Six prints of
these and one or two original sketches of Clara Lane’s are in Hopkins
family albums. It is not known what sketch GMH took to Oxford.
Another Lane daughter, Eliza or Emily, exhibited at the Female Artists’
but not at RA.
9 - 7- Mrs. Chappie had been in 1862 some kind of responsible housekeeper
or matron at Elgin House, Highgate School, when Hopkins was a border
there, and seems to have been kind to him when he was in trouble with the
Headmaster {LL, iii. 2).
*0- I . This I do not believe. Hopkins’s doubts about Knight’s interpretation
of these lines from Twelfth Mght seem reasonable enough. His own sug-
gestion is preferable, and is similar to the view of Steevens which Knight
quotes with disapproval : ‘Liver, brain, and heart, are admitted in poetry
as the residence of passions, judgment, and sentiments. These are what
Shakspere calls “her sweet perfections” * {The Pictorial Edition of the Works
of Shakespeare, ed. Charles Knight, 7 vols, 1842: Comedies, ii. 136).
NOTES TO EARLY DIARIES
298
10. 2. Castiliano volto: Charles Knight, above, gives this as Warburton’s
reading.
10. 3. Dyne, Revd John Bradley, DD (1809-98), Fellow of Wadham
1832-8; dean and lecturer in Divinity 1837-8; Headmaster of Highgate
1838-74. Built up the school from 19 boys to over 130 when Hopkins left
in 1863. He was certainly a good teacher of the Classics; and, according
to Edmund Yates, who was there in the 1840’s, thought ‘the study of Latin
and Greek the primary object of our creation’ (Recollections and Experiences,
i. 64). As a headmaster Yates remembered him as heavy-handed and
tyrannical. Between him and GMH there was mutual dislike, certainly
marked by some jealousy on Dyne’s part, which eventually flared up int|o
the amazing row described in GMH’s letter to C. N. Luxmoore of 7 May
1862: ‘. . . Dyne and I had a terrific altercation. I was driven out df
patience and cheeked him wildly, and he blazed into me with his ridingi
whip* (LL, iii. 2). See rest of letter, and Luxmoore to Arthur Hopkins
(LL, iii. 394-6).
11. I. TTCToAa TTvpLva. The phrase occurs in Plutarch, De Placitis Philoso-
phorum, ii. 889 a, in the section Trepl ax^pLarog acrripwv lA \ ”Evloi Sc
TriraXa €LvaL 7 rvpLva, wcrrrep ^coypacfi'qfiaTa: Philemon Holland, 1603, trans-
lates it as ‘fiery plates’. The word patines (MV, v. i. 59) is the same as
patens or pattens. Gr. Trardin] a flat dish : this word probably comes from the
same root as TreTdvvvp^i and ndraXov.
12. I. Palmer, Revd Edwin (1824-95), Fellow and Tutor of Balliol, had
connexions with Highgate and had been external examiner in the Sixth
Form Easter Exams in Hopkins’s last year at school (LL, iii. 16). A Latin
specialist, alert and vigorous and most efficient as a tutor. ‘Palmer, though
full of idiom, dashed along with an eloquence that was somewhat regard-
less of niceties. He was an excellent writer of Latin prose, and his scholar-
ship was of the older type that was always ready with apt quotations’
(W. Sanday, in Memoir of W. R. Anson, p. 47). For GMH’s lectures
with Palmer see p. 16 and note. He became Corpus Professor of Latin
1870, and Canon of Christ Church and Archdeacon of Oxford 1878. He
was a moderate Tractarian and married the sister of his colleague James
Riddell. His brother Roundell became Lord Chancellor and 1st Earl of
Selborne; another brother, William (sec DNB), a learned theologian and
antiquarian, had been received into the Catholic Church 1855 and lived
thereafter in Rome.
14. I. Uncle George. George Giberne (1797-1876) was the son of Mark
Gibeme, of Messrs Stainforth and Giberne, wine merchants. Entered the
E. India Co.’s service and became Judge in the Bombay Presidency. On
retirement he married, 28 July 1846, Maria Smith, younger sister of
GMH’s mother; from that date they lived at Epsom, where they were fre-
quendy visited by GMH and his family. Traditional stories of GMH as a
boy in the Epsom garden were given by Mr Lance de G. Sieveking (grand-
son of George Gibeme) in the Poetry Review (Sept. 1942). George Giberne
drew beautifully and was specially interested in architectural subjects; he
was also an expert amateur photographer, and a great deal of his work
NOTES TO EARLY DIARIES
299
survives. The portraits of GMH reproduced in Further Letters (1938),
frontispiece and p. 246, though not there attributed to him, arc from his
original prints in possession of Mr Sieveking. It is clear that photographs
by him played a large part in GMH’s study of medieval architecture in
youth. His younger sister Maria Rosina was Newman^s friend who, after
her conversion, lived and painted in Rome and later became a nun of the
Order of the Visitation at Autun. Main sources: Fam. Papers; information
from Mr Sieveking; I. Giberne Sieveking, Memoir of Francis W, Newman.
14. 2. Yorkshire rivers. Taken from unsigned article, ‘Yorkshire’. The list
is given to show influence of ‘the language of the ancient and powerful
Brigantian race’; the derivations and what they signify are added ‘as
being suggestive and full of poetry’.
15. I. *Virginibus . . . canto': Horace, Odes^ iii. i, 4.
16. I . Chalmers says. Chalmers’s note in his edition of The Plays of William
Shakspeare (1826), ii. 27, runs:
‘ — the pregnant enemy — ] i.e. enemy of mankind’,
which implies that it is the word pregnant that shows the reference to be to
the devil. Hopkins rightly objects to this view.
16. 2. ^How will this fadge?'. The reference is to Twelfth Nighty ii. ii. 34. (The
note from Chalmers is not quite accurately copied : Chalmers italicizes all
the words except the first to, and is.)
16. 3. To fond on. The expression comes from Twelfth Night, ii. ii. 35, and
Hopkins’s note is correct. Chalmers has no note here,
16. 4. R.R P.R. . . . J.R. : these must be Riddell’s, Palmer’s, and Jowett’s
rooms, used between them for lectures and classes.
16. 5. Dr. Pusey's lectures were almost certainly the special informal course on
Old Testament difficulties, for undergraduates and BA’s, begun on 4 Nov.
1863, which questions were invited about problems raised by Colenso,
Essays and Reviews, &c. (Liddon, Life of Pusey, iv. 74-75). For the first the
room was crowded, but ‘it was not thought at all a success’; but by Mar.
1864 the lectures were ‘more consecutive’ and Pusey wondered whether
they would wish to continue in the summer evenings. He said : ‘I am not
working with you, I am always working for you* (Bright’s Journal, Nov.
1863 and Mar. 1864). The lectures, given in Pusey’s house in Christ
Church, were sometimes called levees \ they were always in the evening but
not constantly on the same day of the week.
16. 6. Adadan is almost certainly James Riissell Madan (1841-1905), son of
Revd G. Madan of Cam and Redcliffe, Glos., Hon. Canon of Bristol,
Marlborough. Sch. Queen’s, Oxford i860. Member of the Hexameron
1867 (seep. 328). Anglican Deacon 1865. Principal (surely too young and
inexperienced) Warminster Mission House, for training ‘theological stu-
dents intending to be ordained and go abroad’ (Madan to Liddon 27 Feb.
1868; Liddon Papers). By Spring 1872 was in serious doubts about his
Anglican position and consulted Bright; was advised by Bishop Moberly
of Salisbury to leave Warminster. Studied history of 3rd to 8th General
Councils in Oxford, and was convinced that the promise ‘Tu es Petrus,
300
NOTES TO EARLY DIARIES
&c* belonged to the Sedes Petri. Received into Roman Church (* “Ro-
mana’”, he said, ‘was an old epithet by schismatics &c of the Church’)
by the Bp of Clifton at Christmas 1872 (Letters to Liddon, 27 Apr. and
2 Mar. 1873), Signed himself to Liddon ‘Your affect, former disciple’.
Taught at Kensington R.C. School. Ordained priest. Missioner in New
Zealand 1886-96. Died at Mill Hill 12 Apr. 1905. At this date Hopkins
and Skrine would hardly have been dining with his elder brother Henry
George, Fellow of Queen’s 1861 (see p. 308).
16 . 7. Skrine, There were two Skrines in Oxford. This is probably not John
Huntley Skrine, a favourite Uppingham pupil of Thring, who later became
Warden of Glenalmond; but Henry Mills Skrine (1844-1915) of Bradfield^
Eton, and Balliol. 3rd Mods 1865. Somerset country gentleman. JP 1874,
DL. CC 1901, when he succeeded his father at Warleigh Manor. Gol.\
Volunteer Battalion Somerset Light Infantry.
16 . 8. Have a breakfast. Few of these men became close friends, and the
party’s range shows a freshman’s social experimentation. Breakfast parties,
no longer fashionable in London, survived in full vigour in Oxford, and
have not quite died out there even now. ‘Yesterday I had a very intellec-
tual breakfast: Conington, Rutson, Green, Tollcmache, Dicey, Lyulph,
Stanley and Puller. I find these breakfasts formidable things; for there is a
succession of meats, all of which I have to dispense, to change plates, and
keep people going with fresh forks and knives, etc. It is not the custom for
any scouts to be in attendance, so that the host has to do all menial offices.
You would be amused to see these intellectual men begin with fried soles
and sauces, proceed to a cutlet, then taste a few sausages or some savoury
omelette, and finish up with buttered cake or toast and marmalade. Up
to the sweet finale coffee is the beverage; and tea, coming when hunger has
abated, prolongs breakfast ad infinitum^ (J. A. Symonds to his sister Char-
lotte, II Mar. i860).
16 . 9. Anderson^ Arthur (1844-1902); educ. Blackheath. Balliol 1863. 3rd
Mods 1865; 4th Greats 1867. Anglican Deacon 1869. After many country
curacies. Vicar of Studham, Ely 1891. Not apparently a member of the
Liddon group. Nor was Lovell, George Francis ( 1 844-192 1 ) ; educ. Birming-
ham. Balliol 1863. 3rd Greats 1867. Gk Testament Prize 1869; Denyer
and Johnson Sch. 1870. Deacon 1868. Vice-Principal, St Edmund Hall
1871-89. City Lecturer, St Martin’s, Oxford 1872-95. Theological Lec-
turer at five different colleges between 1879 1896. Rector of Water-
stock 1896.
16 . 10. Anson, William Reynell (1842-1914; see DNB), was later the well-
known lawyer. Warden of All Souls, author of The Law and Custom of die
Constitution, As an undergraduate serious-minded, rather unambitious,
droll, fond of amateur theatricals, of his family and of Etonian friends:
duly got his two firsts. Ilbert was a life-long friend (see p. 347). Anson re-
mained a loyal Anglican of rather uncertain theology. Disapproved of
young conversions to Rome. ‘Of a serious-minded rather hyper-sensitive
man who became a Jesuit he observed, “H. has become a Jesuit and is going
as a governess in a Protestant family”. His humour had a dash of British
NOTES TO EARLY DIARIES
301
Philistinism when these “conversions”, so all-absorbing to the subjects,
came under his notice’ {Memoir of Anson, ed. H. H. Henson, 1920, p. 200).
It is hard to be sure that this did not refer to Hopkins. The Memoir, quoted
elsewhere in these notes, is a valuable source for Balliol life at the time.
16. II. Paravicini, Baron Francis de (1843-1920), Eldest son of Revd Baron
Francis de Paravicini, of Wymondham, Leics,, Rector of Avening.
Marlborough. Sch. Balliol 1862. ist Mods and Hertford Sch. 1864; 2nd
Greats and Gaisford Prose Prize 1866. Senior Student Christ Church
1866-71. Tutor of Balliol 1872-98; Classics lecturer 1872-8; Bursar 1878-
9; Fellow 1878-1908. His wife Frances, daughter of W. W. Williams of
Oxford and sister of Robert Williams (for whom GMH wrote the Greats
essay on p. 122; see also p. 343), was a convert to Rome (see LL, i. 58).
Hopkins saw a lot of them when he returned to Oxford as a priest for ten
months in 1878: ‘At Oxford, in my last stay there, I was not happy, but
there were many consolations and none pleasanter than what came from
you and your house’ {LL, iii. 62-63). He met Paravicini again in Dublin
within two months of his last illness (see letter below).
On GMH’s death, Frances de Paravicini wrote to Mrs Hopkins: ‘My
Husband was in Dublin for a few days, before Easter, & saw Father Gerard
once or twice ; & they spent an Evening together. He thought him looking
very ill then, & said that he was much depressed. That day or two seemed to
bring back all the old friendship, & give it, as it were, new life. When my
Husband came back he spoke of Father Gerard to others; & we had just
managed that he should be sent for — back to England — ^when we heard
of his illness. We were hoping to have him in Oxford for some time this
summer .... He was so lovable — so singularly gifted — &, in his saintliness,
so apart from, & different to, all others. Only that his beautifully gentle &
generous nature made him one with his friends; & led us to love & to
value him, — feeling that our lives were better, & the world richer, because
of him. . . , One thought has much comfort in it. Although Fr. Gerard’s
work in the world, so to speak, — his literary work — was always, for him,
mixed with a certain sense of failure & incompleteness, yet he had the life
he chose for himself. And, in his religious life, he was very happy. My
Husband remembers how he would speak of his enjoyment in the saying
his Office, & in the quiet completeness of his religion’ (14 June 1889:
Bodl. MSS).
The Paravicinis gave a font to St Aloysius’s Church, Oxford, in Hopkins’s
memory.
16.12. Willert, Paul Ferdinand ( 1 844-1 912). Eton. Balliol 1 862 . Migrated to
Corpus as Sch. 1863. ist Greats 1866. Fellow of Exeter 1867. Master at
Eton 1870-4. Tutor in History at Exeter 1877. Published Louis XI and
various historical articles ; a friend of Bridges and Strachan-Davidson (see
P- 3'9)> never a close friend of GMH.
16. 13. Bailward, Thomas Henry Methuen (1843-1913). Eton. Balliol 1862.
2nd Mods 1864; 3rd Law and History 1866. Succeeded father as Lord of
the Manor of Horsington, Som. 1868. Member Somerset CC and JP.
304
NOTES TO EARLY DIARIES
Studied at the Academy Schools and at Heatherley’s, and became a pro-
fessional artist. Main source of income for many years was black-and-white
journalism and illustration. Work for the Graphic^ Illustrated London News^
&c., involved for over 20 years great strain from travel, hurry, and
memorizing of detail; he called it ‘fearful work*, ‘artistic hack work’.
Forrest Reid, Illustrators of the Sixties^ 1928, p. 269, had a note on ‘that
accomplished illustrator Arthur Hopkins, who was influenced by William
Small and perhaps, in the beginning, slightly by du Maurier Hopkins
is a good draughtsman, with a strong dramatic sense, to which is added a
sense of character, as his drawings for The Prescotis of Pamphillon {Good
Words y 1873), and still more his drawings for Whiteladies {Good Words,
1875) and The Atonement of Learn Dundas {Cornhilly 1875) show. ... He wa$
one of the mainstays of Miss Braddon’s magazine Belgravia, in which ho,
illustrated many serial novels, including James Payn’s By Proxy (1877),'
Wilkie Collins’s Haunted Hotel (1878), Hardy’s Return of the Native (1878),
Payn’s Confidential Agent (1879), Charles Gibbon’s Queen of the Meadow
(1879), and Justin McCarthy’s Donna Quixote (1879). And all these illus-
trations are competent, those for The Return of the Native, as was inevitable,
being the least satisfying, missing the superbly poetic quality of that great
novel.’ In an interview reported by J. A. Reid {Art Journal, July 1889), with
portrait and reproductions, Hopkins himself said his early black-and-white
work was much influenced by du Maurier, who was a friend. He was also
a regular, though not really frequent contributor to Punch. Simultaneously
he worked in water-colours (specially influenced by Fred Walker, for
whom see pp. 387 and 427) and in oils. From about 1881 was member of
RWS, exhibiting annually; treasurer in later life. First oil picture, exhi-
bited RA 1877, was ‘The Plough’. Other RA exhibits showed contem-
porary and family interest in danger at sea — ‘All Hands to the Capstan’,
‘Signals of Distress’, ‘The Empty Boat at Sea’; also exhibited portraits.
His oil portraits of his mother and of his sister Milicent in her habit
as an All Saints’ Sister are not distinguished. ‘My admiration in oil-
painting was — and ever will be — Millais’, he said in 1899. His principle
then was; ‘So long as the artist sticks to truth, and learns from Nature to
be faithful and modest, he will always have his reward, though he may
never be the fashion.’ In 1878 GMH wrote: ‘My brother’s pictures, as you
say, are careless and do not aim high, . . . But ... he has somehow in
painting his pictures, though nothing that the pictures express, a high and
quite religious aim’ {LL, i. 51). One long letter of GMH to AH, mainly
about one of his pictures, has survived {LL, iii. 186) ; for two earlier letter-
headings of GMH to him, sec plates 7 and 8. _
17. 2. Mamma: Kate Hopkins (3 Mar. 1821-30 Sept. 1920), eldest of the
eight children of John Simm Smith, FRGS, FSA (seep. 349) and Maria,
daughter of Edward Hodges, a successful underwriter during the Napo-
leonic War. Brought up in 17 Trinity Square, Tower Hill, where her
father practised as a doctor till his move to Blunt House, Croydon, some
years after her marriage. Her memoir. The Mirror (Fam. Papers), named
after the rococo drawing-room mirror, which remained, long afterwards,
her chief association with Trinity Square, gives a short but vivid picture
NOTES TO EARLY DIARIES
305
of childhood-friends in Tower Hill and visits to her grandparents : John
Smith, in business in Upper Thames Street (who died of cholera 1832),
and Edward Hodges of Clapham Common. Neighbours in Trinity Square
included Dr Southwood Smith (working with Dickens on public health
propaganda in the 40’s) and, for a short time, Mr Lyne, father of Brother
Ignatius. She was sent away to school at Brixton, under the Misses Edwards,
at 1 1 or less. She and her four sisters were all fond of music, and all great
readers of Dickens ; but although she spent some time before her marriage
with a family in Hamburg and learnt some German, there is little known
evidence to support Fr Lahey’s rather formidable description of her: ‘She
was an unusually well-educated woman for that generation, and her early
acquaintance with German thought and literature, made her ever after-
wards a keen student of philosophy, history, and politics’ {Life, p. i ) . For
her marriage to Manley Hopkins (8 Aug. 1843) and some details of their
married life, see p. 331. LL, iii contains 70 letters to her from GMH, found
at her last home. The Garth, Haslemere, after LGH’s death in 1952; and
a photograph. A long series of Robert Bridges’s letters to her, 1889-1919
(Bodl. MSS), shows the great interest she took in the publication of her
son’s poems. She had always valued them; and The Starlight Night,
one of the two sonnets he sent her on 3 Mar. 1877 hi. 144), hung,
illuminated on parchment, in her house. She lived for two years after
RB’s edition of the Poems in 1918, to within six months of her hundredth
birthday.
17. 3. the the Brotherhood of the Holy Trinity, a High Church
Society of Oxford dons and undergraduates. The fullest accounts of its
foundation and growth are in Frederick Meyrick’s Memories of Life at
Oxford and Elsewhere, 1905, pp. 173-5; ^^d in F. L. Cross, Harwell Stone,
1943, pp. 13-14. It grew out of the ‘Brotherhood of St Mary*, founded in
1844, a small group led by Alexander Penrose Forbes (see p. 334), who
wished to study ecclesiastical art: E. A. Freeman was one of the four
original brethren. Ten years later Meyrick, then Fellow of Trinity, was
one of those who re-created it into a society concerned with helping
undergraduates ‘from pious homes and well taught at their schools’ to-
wards a good life. Pusey gave the revised society its new name and some
simple suggestions as to conduct, ‘such as that we should rise early, use
prayer, public and private, be moderate in food and drink, and avoid
speaking evil of others’. His original proposals that the members should
always walk with their eyes turned to the ground (as he did himself) or,
failing that, wear round their loins a girdle of flannel as a token of self-
restraint, were not adopted. When Hopkins went up to Oxford, R, C.
Benson was Master of the Brotherhood, Liddon and William Bright active
senior members, and Puscy’s suggestions had become rules, although to be
voluntarily adopted. (George Saintsbury, A Scrap Book, p. 285, tells how
Benson, as Master, and he once had ‘a difficulty as to the exact meaning
of one of its rules about glasses of wine’.) Many of GMH’s later friends had
already joined ; Urquhart, Frederick and Alfred Gurney, Ghallis, Madan
of Qjaeen’s. On 8 Dec. 1863 Hopkins, Addis, and Bridges were among six
new members proposed and seconded: on 28 Jan. 1864 Addis and Bridges
B 6028 X
3o6
NOTES TO EARLY DIARIES
were elected. The diary-note here and a letter to his mother on 23 Jan.
1864 {LL, iii. 88) both show that, as we should expect, GMH was tempted
to join: but he never did. Home ties were probably still too strong; later,
his own scruples and rules of asceticism may well have gone beyond those
of the Brotherhood.
The daily prayers used by members were based on Newman’s ‘Prayers
for Unity and Guidance into the Truth’, sketched for his and Pusey’s
proposed Union for Prayer in the Church of England, of 1840 (Liddon’s
Life of E, B. Pusey, ii. 134-5). This probably accounts for Bright’s having to
refer ‘to the supposed, — but he [Bp Tozer] should know, the untrue, con-
nection with the oratory* (Bright’s Journal, 19 Feb. 1863). In Oct.
the Master, then the Revd J. E. Millard, followed by Liddon, read ad-
dresses to 29 Brethren on the Position of the Church of England wit^
Reference to the Church of Rome. The withdrawals of Addis, Challi^
Garrett, and Wood — all converts to Rome that summer and autumn—^
were then announced.
The Brotherhood played an important part in the inner life of the
Catholic Revival, especially in Oxford. St Stephen’s House (from 1876),
then Pusey House (from 1884) were centres for its meetings. In the 80 ’s
its influence declined, probably, F. L. Cross suggests, because its rules ill
suited the majority of members no longer at Oxford.
17. 4. Xanadu. ‘A Trip to Xanadu’, Cornhillf Feb. 1864, ix. 159, is in fact
an account of a visit to Futlehporc Seekree (so spelt), the deserted city of
Akbar 22 miles from Agra. Its descriptions of the architecture possibly
interested GMH, for it is otherwise affected and sententious. For his looking
at Fergusson’s photographs of Indian architecture, see p. 237 and n.
17. 5. Locke uses pudder and opiniatrety: pudder (pother) in The Conduct of the
Understanding (a posthumous work, first published in 1 706, not to be con-
fused with the Essay concerning Human Understanding)^ § 13, ‘contrary obser-
vations, that can be of no other use but to perplex and pudder him if he
compares them’ ; opiniatrety (obstinacy) in the same, § 1 6, ‘This is a short
way to fancy and conceit, and (if firmly embraced) to opiniatrety’. Locke
uses both words elsewhere : but GMH was certainly reading this essay then
and quotes from it later in the Diary (p. 19). He read it, with Bacon’s
Essays, in a small edn of the two published as one vol. by Chambers,
1862. Opiniatrety was spelt opiniatrity in the original and contemporary
edns; opinionatry in the Collected Works of 1843 ^ 254 * Both it and
pudder were out of general use when Hopkins was writing.
17. 6. ^Sketches . , . Iffley’. After the name Iffley k a cross-ref. to p. 90 of
MS, which links up with ‘Opening . . . Wood’ (p. 22) : this means that those
entries were for sketches too,
17. 7. Eye-bright: a species of the plant Euphrasia.
17. 8. Ajax soliloquizes. This seems to be the synopsis of some projected work
on the theme of Sophocles’ Ajax,
i8« !• *. • . tried for the — who pitied me,^ This blank is quite clear in MS.
NOTES TO EARLY DIARIES
307
18. 2. are bare, MS seems to read ‘the gulfs are blue are bare’; but there is
an uncertainty: the printed text is probably what GMH intended.
19* I. Od. V. : 309-10: . . when hosts of Trojans hurled brass-tipped spears
at me, around the body of the son of Peleus.’
19. 2. Locke. For The Conduct of the Understanding and the text that GMH used,
see note above. In § 20, Reading, Locke says that in the progress towards
knowledge ‘he who fair . . . that points right, will sooner be at his journey’s
end, than he that runs after every one he meets, though he gallop all day
full-speed’. He has just before spoken of ‘the mizmaze of variety of opinions
and authors’, through which one has to be led to truth and certainty,
19. 3. Miss Ingelow. Divided, the first poem in Poems, by Jean Ingelow, 1863,
begins
‘An empty sky, a world of heather.
Purple of foxgloves, yellow of broom . .
19. 4. Shelley: the title shows that GMH had read the version given in The
Pine Forest of the Cascine, near Pisa, published by Mrs Shelley in Posthumous
Poems (1824) and followed in the ist edn of Poetical Works, 1839 (iv. 178).
The passage there runs :
‘There lay far glades and neighbouring lawn,
And through the dark-green crowd
The white sun twinkling like the dawn
Under a speckled cloud.*
In the 2nd edn of 1839 poem was divided into The Invitation and The
Recollection, with considerable variations of text: these lines, with some
changes, come in the last stanza of The Recollection.
19. 5. Ite domum . . . Virgil, Eel. x. 77. Between ‘Go* and ‘home’, below, MS
seems clearly to read ‘one’; this must be a slip for ‘on’.
19* 6. A. E. Hardy (Hon. Alfred Erskine Gathorne-, 1845-1918), 3rd son
of 1st Earl of Cranbrook, then a Burgess for the University (sec p. 354).
Eton. Balliol 1863-6. 3rd Mods 1864; 1st Law and History 1867. Barrister,
Inner Temple 1869; practised till 1884. Counsel to Commissioner of
Works and Office of Woods and Forests. MP, Canterbury 1877-80. Un-
seated on petition after 1880 election. MP, North Sussex 1886-95. Director
SE Rly. Rly Commissioner 1905, JP and Deputy Lieut., Kent. Published
Life of 1 st Earl of Cranbrook, 1910, and several books of reminiscences. He
was one of GMH’s early Balliol friends and among those who ‘represent
the High Church section* (LL, iii. 75-76) ; he, GMH, and Edward Bond
spent part of Aug. 1864 reading together in Wales {LL, iii. 21 1-13), They
seem to have lost touch on leaving Oxford, but GMH sent remembrances
to him via Baillie in Dec. 1872 from Stonyhurst {LL, iii. 239).
*9- 7 * Lasher: *. . . 3. Chiefly local (on the Thames) : the body of water that
lashes or rushes over an opening in a barrier or weir; hence, the opening;
a weir 1677’ (OED),
*9* 8. The new names seem beyond doubt to be those of possible candidates
for the Hexameron, the Essay Society of which Liddon was first President
3o8
NOTES TO EARLY DIARIES
(seep. 328) and GMH a member. Only three of them, Copeman, Plummer,
and Ogle, appear as members in the printed list for the Michaelmas Term
1865, in the Liddon Papers.
19 . 9. Daniel, probably Wilson Eustace (1841-1924), younger brother of
C. H. O. Daniel who was later Provost of Worcester and owner of the
famous private press. 2nd Greats 1864; ordained as Chaplain of Wor-
cester 1865; curate, St Mark’s, Whitechapel 1866. Later, Rector of
Horsington, Somerset.
19 . 10. Baker, William (1841-1910). Merchant Taylors* School; St John’s
i860; ist Mods 1862; 2nd Greats 1864. Ordained. Lecturer, St John’s
1866-70; Headmaster, Merchant Taylors’ 1870-1900; Canon of ' fet
Paul’s 1880. \
19 . II. Madan, Henry George, elder brother of James Russell Madan (set
p. 299); b. 1839. Exh. Corpus Christ! 1857-61; 2nd Mods 1858; 4th
Greats i860; ist Nat. Sciences 1861. Fellow of Queen’s 1861. Science
master, Eton 1869-88.
19 . 12. Copeman, Frederick John (1840-80), Christ Church 1860-5. 2nd
Mods 1861 ; 2nd Greats 1863. Ordained. Classical tutor, Durham Univer-
sity 1865; Bp Maltby’s Librarian, Durham 1870. Michaelmas Term 18G5,
one of the three Honorary Members of the Hexameron.
19 . 13. Plummer, Alfred (1841-1926). Lancing. Exeter College 1859; ist
Mods 1861; 2nd Greats 1863. Fellow of Trinity, Oxford 1865-75; tutor
and dean 1867-74. Friend of Liddon for many years. Master of University
College, Durham 1874. Author of many works on Biblical Studies and on
English Church History. He visited GMH at the Oratory, Birmingham,
in Apr. 1868 (see p. 163).
19 . 14. Towgood, Arthur, b, 1841. Sherborne. St John’s i860. BA 1864.
Cuddesdon. After ordination went to New Zealand. Wrote to Liddon
2 June 1868 an immensely long letter explaining his ambitions, dating
from school, to become a poet, and including samples of his highly religious,
but averagely bad verse.
19 . 15. 0 ^/^, Harman Chaloner (1843-87). Magdalen 1862. ist Mods 1863;
1st Greats 1865; Ireland Sch. 1863; Craven 1866. Fellow 1865-87; tutor
1868-71; bursar 1870; vice-president 1875. Warden, Queen’s College,
Birmingham 1873-4. Schoolmaster 1874-86. Rector of Tubney 1886.
19 . 16. Stafford, Charles Egerton Fiennes, b. i8^j3, son of Revd James C.
Stafford, of Dinton, Wilts. Sch. New College 186 1-6. 2nd Mods 1863;
3rd Greats 1865. Ordained 1866. Various curacies 1866-83; chaplain to
the English Church at Bordighera 1880-2.
20 . i. A, Westenholz- See note on Danish Relief Fund below.
20. 2. Frederikd*s photograph might be of GMH’s first cousin, Gertrude
Frederica, then a child of seven. She was the eldest daughter of Revd
Thomas Marsland Hopkins (see p. 332), Manley Hopkins’s youngest
brother, and of Aunt Kate (see same note). Later cartes de visile of Frederica
are among the Fam. Papers.
NOTES TO EARLY DIARIES
309
20# 3« Danish Soldiers ^ . . . Relief fund, for aid after attack by Prussia of Jan.
1864, was launched by Ld Glanricarde in letter to The Times of 22 Feb.
and supported in a leading article. A week later, A. Westenholz (noted
by GMH above) wrote to The Times that the ladies* committee of the
fund had raised ;£2,300.
21. I. Speke says . . . The quotation is from the Introduction (p. xxx) to
Capt. John Hanning Spekc*s Journal of the Discovery of the Nile, Blackwood,
1863, the account of his journey from Zanzibar to Lake N’yanza, and down
the Nile to Alexandria Aug. iSSo-Feb. 1863. Zanquebar (corrupted to
Zanzibar by the Indian traders) is the old Arab name for the East African
seaboard from the Red Sea southwards. Speke returns to the euphony of
the language in his second book. What Led to the Discovery of the Source of the
Nile, Blackwood, 1864, pp. 238-9. Among the examples he quotes is
Unyamuezi (‘country of the moon’), one of those given by GMH here.
21. 2. Speke — U-n-ya-muizi. There is a gap of a third of a page after this
word, as if he was going to put down more examples of ‘euphony*.
21. 3. Lionel Charles Hopkins (1854-1952), sixth child, fifth son, last sur-
vivor of the family. In small slight build, and in face, like his brother GMH,
whom he much loved and admired. The Harrow examiners made a bad
mistake in rejecting him (see p. 150). Early in 1868 went as Commoner to
Winchester, a foundation-member of Revd W. A. Fearon*s new House at
22 Kingsgate Street (moved to Culver House 1869): Ridding had just
succeeded Mobcrly as Headmaster. On leaving, LCH was top of Senior
Division of Modern School, with a report of ‘thoughtful and thorough
work’ in French and German; among much praise of his work, conduct,
and manners, Fearon wrote; ‘He is modest and most faultily unambitious.*
In March 1874 he joined British Consular Service in China as Student
Interpreter (see p. 241). Moved regularly up the official ladder, serving at
one time or another in most of the Treaty Ports, with occasional leave in
England, till he became Consul-General in Tientsin 1901. Retired 1908
(ISO) on account of ill-health, and lived, unmarried, till death, in the
family house at Haslemerc, rarely leaving it even for London. He seems to
have been little interested in the art, philosophy, or even people of China;
but his interest in the language made him a scholar of world-wide reputa-
tion for interpreting the archaic scripts. His translation of The Six Scripts
by Tai T’ung (Amoy, 1881) has been reprinted with a Memoir by W.
Perceval Yetts (CUP, 1954). His most important work was the collection
and interpretation of incised oracle bones of c. 1300-1050 b.c. On these
and related subjects he contributed 43 articles to the Journal of the Royal
Asiatic Society between 191 1 and 1949. His collection of inscribed bone and
tortoiseshell was bequeathed to the Cambridge University Library. His
Guide to Kuan Hua (1889) is, writes Prof. Yetts, ‘an important contribution
to the study of colloquial Chinese*, and he was a pioneer, among Western
scholars, in ‘recognizing the importance of studying archaic Chinese
writing as a basis for mastering the language*.
His incidental writings and letters (quoted elsewhere in these notes) show
a dry detached humour and (especially in earlier years) a taste for puns and
310 NOTES TO EARLY DIARIES
other play on words, which he shared with the family. Among the Fam.
Papers are several elaborate jokes of his, such as ‘Genealogical Tree of
the Bunter or Brentear Family’, with a short parody of family history. He
published some humorous verses, &c., in newspapers in China.
In religion he became unobtrusively agnostic, had no sympathy with the
Jesuits, and said he did not see why GMH could not have become ‘an
ordinary Catholic* like other people. LCH visited GMH as a novice, who
began, as he said, to ‘taste* Lionel’s mind and asked him a lot of religious
questions. He started by saying: ‘Do you say your prayers?’ ‘No.* ‘At least
that’s honest.* LCH could not understand why his parents had been so
distressed at GMH’s conversion, but said that the way they later becatne
reconciled even to his being a Jesuit Priest argued great tolerance, charity,
and, above all, great love for Gerard. \
The brothers regretted they did not meet or correspond more. One lon|
letter of GMH to LCH, about Greek histories, philological works, &c.,;
has survived (LL, iii. 191).
21. 4. Cyril Hopkins, the next brother younger than GMH; b. Stratford
Grove 18 Mar. 1846; was the only other son who went to Highgate School,
Sept. 1856 to July 1861. Extant reports for his first two years there show a
decently creditable career. His valuable reminiscences of GMH’s boyhood
at home and at school are published in Life, pp. 3-8. He kept up by post
his boyhood friendship with Marcus Hislop Clarke (see p. 293) ; his MS
Memoir of Clarke, in the Mitchell Library, Sydney, has provided informa-
tion for Mr Brian Elliott’s biography of Clarke, referred to on the same
page. It is another important source for episodes in GMH’s youth.
Cyril was the only one of the sons to join his father in the profession of
average adjuster, and was a partner in the firm Manley Hopkins, Son and
Cookes. He may have worked with his uncle, John Simm Smith the
actuary, in Liverpool about 1870-2 (see references to them together,
apparently near Stony hurst, pp. 217 and 226). He was Associate of the
Average Adjusters’ Association in 1873, and Member 1874. He retired
from partnership in the family firm i July 1888 (Memorandum of Agree-
ment in Fam. MSS Gp 1 . G. 2). Retired from business 1918. Married
Harriet Isabella Bockett 8 Oct. 1872; died, without issue, 8 May 1932.
21. 5. New College . . . Museum, This list is given in MS in a column; in the
text ‘ditto* represents lines under ‘Chapel and Gardens’. It seems a list of
things to show visitors to Oxford. It is interesting to see prominence given
to recent Gothic work : Merton new buildings by Butterfield were opened
June 1864; the Meadow buildings at Christ Church by Deane (of Deane
and Woodward) were begun in 1862 and finished 1865; the Museum by
Woodward had been opened in 1858, but its decoration is not finished to
this day.
22 • I . Frogs isSg-isyo. KvSear * Axoli^v Arpiws rroXvKolpavc fidvOavi pLOV irat
(‘Noblest of the Achaeans, wide-ruling son of Atreus, learn from me*),
quoted satirically in the play by Euripides. Hopkins quotes the first part of
the scholium exactly (‘Aristarchus and Apollonius say “Consider whence
these words arc’’ ’) . The scholium then continues : Tipxipxt^os Sc c/c TriXi^ov
NOTES TO EARLY DIARIES
3 “
i4i<7XvAou. AaKXTj'TTLdSris Si cf */(^iy€V€ta?. See Aristophanis Comoediae, iv,
ii, Scholia Graeca^ ed. Dindorf, Oxford, 1838, p. 138, where a footnote adds;
‘Nihil praeter c/c TrjX 4 <l>ov Alct^uXov habet R.* Modern editors (e.g. Sidg-
wick, OCT) ascribe the fragment to the Telephus without question.
22. 2. Addis y William Edward (1844-1917). His great importance in Hop-
kins’s early life appears in many other entries in the Journal, with their
notes, and in the published letters. He wrote to Fr Joseph Keating, SJ, on
5 July 1909 : ‘I knew him in his undergraduate days far better than any one
else did. ... Of many letters some of them very long which Hopkins wrote to
me I have not, alas! kept even one’ {Life^ pp. 18-19; Campion Hall MSS).
Son of Revd T. Addis, Free Church Minister, Morningside, Edinburgh.
Educ. Merchiston Castle School; Glasgow University; Snell Exhibitioner,
Balliol 1861 (Tutor, Jowett). 1st Mods 1863 and Greats 1865. 1866.
Received into Catholic Church at St Mary of the Angels, Bayswater about
a fortnight before Hopkins, Oct. 1866. Confirmed there by Manning,
together with GMH and Alexander Wood, 4 Nov. 1866. Joined London
Oratory 1868; ordained Priest 1872. Parish Priest at Sydenham (where
GMH at least once went to preach for him) 1878-88. Came to know
intimately F. von Hiigel, for whose friendship (and later concern) with
him see Michael de la Bedoy^re, The Life of Baron von Hiigel, 1951. Elected
Fellow in Mental and Moral Philosophy, Royal University of Ireland,
Apr. 1882; but resigned Oct. of same year. In 1888 he renounced the
Catholic Church and married Rachel Flood of Sydenham, by whom he
had one son and one daughter. His renunciation caused Hopkins very
great pain {LL, i. 298). Addis then became Asst Minister, Australian
Presbyterian Church, Melbourne 1888-92; Minister of High Pavement
Chapel, Nottingham 1893-8; Professor, Manchester College, Oxford
(Unitarian) 1899. Master of Addis Hall 1900-10. Returned to Church of
England 1901. Licence from Primate to officiate as Anglican Priest 1907.
Curate of St Martin and All Saints, Oxford 1909. Vicar of All Saints,
Ennismore Gardens 1910. During this remarkable career, besides pam-
phlets and articles, he published Documents of the Hexateuch, 2 vols, 1893-8;
Christianity and the Roman Empire, 1893, &c. It is ironical that he is now
best remembered by the Catholic Dictionary which he first published
together with Thomas Arnold Jnr (another wanderer) in 1883, and that
this was still being quoted as a reliable popular statement of Roman
Catholic doctrine in 1930.
22. 3. Opening . . . Wood. It is clear from an earlier cross-reference by page-
number in the MS that this refers to a possible subject for a sketch, as also
the notes below on the ‘Dale*, &c. See p. 306.
23. I. {see sketch book). The drawing is in sketch-book referred to in
appx IV as I. B, dated ‘Elsfield, Oxon. April 13 1864’. Not reproduced.
23. 2. elliptic-curve oaks. Cf. ‘On the Origin of Beauty’, p. 89.
* 3 ' 3* Stanton Harcourt: 9 miles W. of Oxford. Pope was living in the old
manor-house, when John Hewet and Sarah Drew were killed on 31 July
1718. He sent two epitaphs to Lady Mary Wortley Montagu: ‘the godly
one*, beginning ‘Think not by rigorous judgment seiz’d*, being chosen for
312
NOTES TO EARLY DIARIES
the tablet which Lord Harcourt put up on the outside S. wall of the
church. They provoked her famous reply and ensuing controversy as to
their authorship (see her Letters and Works^ ed. Lord Wharncliffe, 1887,
pp. 277-9; Pope, Minor Poems ^ ed. N. Ault and J. Butt, 1954, P* *99)«
Peewits and water-rats are still remarkably common all round the village,
and the pond very black, scattered with leaves.
24 . I. Snakes^ ‘heads. Another name for the fritillary: this used to be a fairly
common plant in the Upper Thames valley; see Matthew Arnold, Thyrsis^
11. 107—9:
I know what white, what purple fritillaries
The grass harvest of the river-fields, ,
Above by Ensham, down by Sandford, yields.
But they are now becoming rarer there and are mainly visited by botanis^
in the meadows of Magdalen College (Gilmour and Walters, Wild Flowers^
1954). They were in Christ Church Meadows in 1866 (see p. 133).
24 . 2. Villari, The History of Girolamo Savonarola and of his Times, By Pasquale
Villari . . . Translated ... by Leonard Horner . . . 1863. Footnote, vol. i,
p. 105, reads exactly as given by Hopkins with the single exception that the
word ‘Romanist’ is omitted; and the Italian edition 1859 has not got it
cither. It looks as if he took his quotation from a secondary authority. Cf.
mem. to read vol. ii of the book, p. 56.
25 . I. In the carving of a miserere seat in Cathedral .... This must be the
miserere in the Corporation Pew, N. side of the Choir, Norwich Cathedral,
reproduced on p. 119 of Handbook to the Cathedrals of England, Eastern
Division, vol. ii. Murrays, 1862. The man rides a stag, has a high-crowned
hat turned up in front, and wears a coat with a network pattern, described
by Richard Hart {On Misereres, Norfolk Archaeology, ii (1849), p. 251) as
‘curiously reticulated’.
25 . 2. New Inn Hall. The first 17 words of this entry are crossed out in
MS, as if GMH hardly believed in them; see the even more pedantic
statement in letter to Baillie of ii Sept. 1864 {LL, iii. 222-3). Baillie may
have persuaded him that such a theory was necessary for this ancient Hall
(see p. 296). In other names the obsolete verb ‘new’ may have operated.
St George’s Gate, Canterbury, was also called Newin or Newing Gate
(demolished 1801).
25 . 3. Bowdilch is on MS, p. 108: the next page is numbered 123 and begins
in mid-sentence, with (fAvap^lv, These pages have been missing ever since
the books were known.
26 . I. scarcely no grammar is on MS, p. 124; pages then cut out until p. I33*
26 . 2. AAAQ . . .: Sophocles, Oedipus Tyrannus, the Chorus at 11. 904-6:
dAA’, <0 KparvvcjVy eiircp opd* d/couctj,
Zcv, TrdvT* dvdaacop, pd] XdSoi
< 7 € rdv . . .
(‘Nay, King, — if thou art rightly called, — Zeus all-ruling, may it not
escape thee . . Jebb’s transL). In putting the passage into capitals
Hopkins has inserted an d» before Zev, not in any of the texts.
26 . 3. Grandmamma, Mrs Martin Edward Hopkins was bom Ann Manley#
NOTES TO EARLY DIARIES
313
daughter of Henry Manley, of Manley, in the parish of Halberton, nr
Tiverton, in 1785. The family had been yeomen-farmers there for 500
years. One of her sisters married Revd. John Eagles of Bristol, poet, painter,
and contributor to Blackwoods \ another, Col. Balfour Wemyss of Fifeshire.
Her brother Henry became a JP. It is hard to see how she and Hopkins ever
met, unless he was in Devonshire on some business connected with the
Tiverton Canal. They were married in 1814 at Halberton on 3 Aug. Her
father was described as a Fundholder, but there is no reason for thinking
she was a substantial ‘heiress’, as has been implied in the Beaver (June 1947).
M. E. Hopkins was obviously rather unsettled and perhaps unprosperous ;
his business addresses were various: 1814, ‘Broker*, Lambeth; 1817-19, 2
Langbourn Chambers, Fenchurch Street; 1822-4, 2 Birchin Lane; 1825-8,
5 St Peter’s Alley, Cornhill; 1829, 48 Fenchurch Street; 1834-5, ‘Indigo
Merchant’, 4 Savage Gardens, Tower Hill. Of his children, Ann Eleanor
was born in Kennington, Manly at East Dulwich. He died intestate in
1836, and his widow had to administer an estate of only £,200. Manley
became the head of the family, and on his marriage in 1843, if not before, he
moved to The Grove, Stratford, providing a home there for his mother and
sister, and also, temporarily, for his brothers Marsland and Charles. The
family tradition, received from LCH, was that Grandmamma was left ‘not
well off’ and that Manley carried the burden; but it seems clear that
Grandmamma must have had some private means, for Marsland was sent
to Cambridge, and all the evidence points to prosperous middle-class life.
An American visitor in 1844 (MS journal of William Richards, Archives of
Hawaii) reported great comfort, and said of Grandmamma, just before
GMH’s birth : ‘Mother feels as mother should’.
There are extant a number of photographs of her in old age, but neither
they nor anything else reveal much about her character. She was always
looking back to Devonshire, and GMH was surprised in 1865 to realize
she spoke with a marked Devonshire accent (LL, iii. 89). After her son
Marsland ’s marriage she moved, with her daughter Ann, to a small house
in Clifton Terrace, Maida Hill, to be near the Church of St Saviour,
Paddington (Franklin Diary, 18 July 1862), of which he became incumbent
in 1856; he died in 1862; and it seems clear that she moved to 36 Victoria
Road, St John’s Wood (later called Fairfax Road), at some time just
before 29 July 1865; she was still there when GMH went to the Jesuit
Novitiate in Sept. 1868. In her last illness he wrote to his mother (24 Apr.
1875) : T hope in spite of her 90 years to hear better news of my grand-
mother in your next letter : I have made and got made many prayers for
her good estate.* No letter of his about her death has been preserved.
Instead of a will she left the following note : ‘I give and bequeath to my
beloved daughter, Ann Eleanor all that I possess. Money in the Funds,
Furniture, Wearing Apparel, Trinkets, Books (all but the British Poets,
which were promised to Manley many years ago) . I leave this little docu-
ment to prevent any misconception when I am gone. Knowing that all
will be done in love and honor, and that she will receive every Comfort
from my most dear and beloved Sons and their Wives. — Ann Hopkins —
bth Jany 1866 — 36 Victoria Road’ (Fam. Papers).
3*4
NOTES TO EARLY DIARIES
26. 4. Modem mediaevalism. No essay has been traced; it was apparently a
private plan, not part of academic work, and may never have been begun.
27. I . He was a shepherd. This is the earliest draft of fragment (i) of Richard^
Poems, p. 1 33, there taken from its later couplet-form in C. II Oct.-Nov. 1864.
29. I. Caen Wood: often so called during the i8th century; Ken Wood in
W. Howitt’s The Northern Heights of London, 1869, and always since. The
house, built by Robert Adam, and its park of 50 acres, lie to the S. of
Hampstead Lane. Lord Mansfield, who then owned it, used to allow the
boys of Highgate School to bathe in one of the ponds in the park.
29. 2. Althd* unchallenged: incomplete drafts of The Lovers’’ Stars, dcscribkl
to Baillie on 20 July 1864 as ‘a trifle in something like Coventry Patmore’s
style’ {LL, iii. 213). The three fragments seem to represent a confusion if
two alternative plans for the poem. An attempt to give a coherent text df
one plan has been made by transposing the second and third fragments.
30. I. Middle Ages: not used by Taylor absolutely, but in ‘the middle ages
of the Church’; the rest of GMH’s note merely gives the full reference.
30. 2. Dixon: Richard Watson Dixon (1833-1900), whose correspondence
with Hopkins (referred to in these notes as LL, ii) was published by Prof.
Abbott in 1935. Dixon had graduated from Pembroke College, Oxford,
where he was a close friend of Burne-Jones, Morris, and others of the Pre-
Raphaelite Brotherhood, in 1857; took Orders and taught at Highgate for
a few months in 1861; and was now a master at Carlisle High School.
GMH read his first vol. of poems, Christ's Company (1861) at Oxford [LL,
ii. i), and refers to his second vol.. Historical Odes and Other Poems (1864),
in last entry of C. II (p. 73). He soon classed him as an ‘Oxford poet’
(p. 60) . For Hopkins’s later remarks on him and his poetry see A Manual
of English Literature, Historical and Critical, by Thomas Arnold, 5th edn,
revised, 1885, pp. 470-1 (reprinted by Abbott as an Additional Note, LL,
ii, 177); and for further accounts. Memoir by Bridges, accompanying his
selection of Dixon’s Poems, 1909, and DNB. Dixon also wrote: Mono:
a Poetical History (1883); Odes and Eclogues (1884); Lyrical Poems (1887);
The Story of Eudocia and her Brothers (1888) ; besides his History of the Church
of England from the Abolition of the Roman Jurisdiction, in 6 vols., 1878-1902.
30. 3. Preraphaelite brotherhood. The original three (1848) were D. G. Rossetti,
Holman Hunt, and Millais. To them were added: (i) Thomas Woolner,
the sculptor and poet (1825-92), who went to Australia to dig gold in
1852 and returned in 1854: his going had inspired Madox Brown’s ‘The
Last of England’. (2) James Gollinson (1825-81), whom Christina
Rossetti refused to many because he became a Roman Catholic. (3)
Frederic George Stephens (1828-1907), whose importance as an art-
critic is now more fully recognized than it was. (4) William Michael
Rossetti (1829-1919), who became Secretary of the Brotherhood, editor of
The Germ (No. i, Jan. 1850), and author of the sonnet on its cover: his
account of the PRB is in Dante Gabriel Rossetti: his Family Letters with a
Memoir (1895).
NOTES TO EARLY DIARIES
3*5
31, I . Mr Burton. More likely to be F. W. Burton : see p. 34 and n.
31. 2. W. S. Burton: William Shakespeare Burton (1824-1916; see P. Bate:
The English Pre-Raphaelite Painters^ 1901, pp. 77-79). In RA that year (1864)
he had ‘Guinevere’ and ‘Elaine* (illustrating scenes from Idylls of the King).
His masterpiece, ‘A Wounded Cavalier* (RA, 1856), is in the Guildhall
Gallery.
32. I. ^New Readings\ This is an early draft of the version (from V. S. S.
Coles’s copy) given in Poems, p. 28.
32. 2. Fau^s Anatomic. Anatomic des formes exUrieures du corps humain d V usage
des peintres et des sculpteurs, par Julien Fau, Paris, 1845. An accompanying
illustrative atlas of 28 lithographic engravings was published in Paris the
next year; and an English edition of both, by Robert Knox, MD, in 2 vols,
London, 1849.
32. 3. Seddon: from the proximity in the Diary of the sketches mentioned
below, this most likely refers to Progress in Art and Architecture, With Prece-
dents for Ornament, by John P. Seddon, brother of Thomas Seddon the
landscape-painter. Seddon supports his appeal for a return to the Gothic
in architecture by quarto plates of capitals, bosses, and other ornaments
from Byzantine and Gothic cathedrals, drawn by himself.
32. 4. Peter von Cornelius (1783-1867) and Johann Friedrich Overbeck (1789-
1869) with Veit, von Schadow, and others, formed in Rome 1810-11 (in
the convent of San Isidore) a kind of Pre-Raphaelite brotherhood called
the ‘Nazarenes’, of which the object was to revive religious art. They all
later returned to Germany. Cornelius became Director of the Academy of
Dusseldorf 1819-24, then of Munich. His chief popularity was as an illus-
trator of the Old and New Testaments, Homer, Dante, Goethe. His best-
known works are the frescoes in the Bartholdy palace in Rome and in the
Munich Glyptothek. He spent 10 years on The Last Judgment (St Ludwig,
Munich). Overbeck, who became a Catholic in 1813, was an exclusively
religious painter. He painted The Vision of St Francis (Assisi : commissioned
by the Pope), frescoes of the life of St Joseph (Berlin), The Christian Par-
nassus (Carlsruhe), &c. For a contemporary discussion and illustrations of
their work, see Art Journal, 1865, German Painters of the Modern School, Nos.
I and 2.
32. 5. Alfred Rethel (1816-59) was a pupil of von Schadow at Dusseldorf.
His most important work was the series of frescoes of the life of Charle-
magne at Aachen. He died mad.
33. I . Leys. GMH had difficulty with his name. Written here as Lluys, with
a caret after the L and I inserted, so that it looks like Huys, as given in
NB {ig37) . But four more references to him in the newly discovered Journal
(one as Feys, the others correct) show that it is Baron Jean Auguste Henri
Leys (1815-69) he is writing of here. Historical genre painter and leader of
the Belgian mid-century medievalists. Decorator of Antwerp Town Hall.
Exhibited in RA 1868 (see p. 167). Walker Gallery, Liverpool, has one of
his pictures ; large collection at Antwerp and Brussels. See Richard Muthe,
The History of Modern Painting, 1907, i. 367-72.
3i6
NOTES TO EARLY DIARIES
33, 2. Burton: F. W. Burton (see p. 34 and n. below). His sketch is partly
written over by GMH, and scarcely warrants reoroduction, as the descrip,
tion is so clear.
33 * 3- ^Rest\ This is the first version of Heaven-Haven^ Poems, p. 40. I must
hunt down the prize is in the same metre, contrasted in mood, Dolbcn’s
copy of Heaven-Haven (referred to on p. 326) is, with some minor variants
in punctuation, the same as the version here, without the alternative
stanza; but it is entitled Fair Havens, or The Convent,
34, I . Gerente designed windows at All Saints except those in the clerestory, which are
by O'Connor, Alfred Gerente (1821-68), one of the leading French stained-
glass painters of the period, worked in Canterbury and Ely as wellj as
designing the windows for All Saints*, Margaret Street, completed in 1859.
M. and A. O’Connor worked in London and exhibited together at tpc
1851 Exhibition, as well as separately at the RA: from the dates when tWy
exhibited, it was probably M. O’Connor who did these designs for All
Saints*. G^rente’s subjects were the Root of Jesse in the great west window
(copied from the Jesse window of Wells Cathedral) and single figures of
saints in those of the aisles. O’Connor’s glass, high up in the clerestory,
consisted of arabesques only. The Ecclesiologist (June 1859) disliked the
clerestory, but with some reservations approved of G^rente’s colouring (in
the west window, mainly green and gold) . The Art Journal ( 1 859) found
G^rente’s glass ‘without an exception, unworthy of the edifice which it
disfigures’, and O’Connor’s infinitely superior.
34. 2. Savin, Miss Gweneth Lilly kindly gave the following version: ‘Long
life and success to the two Savin brothers. May God ever follow them ; and
when an end comes to their brittle life, may Heaven be the home of them
both.’ This seems to be the earliest recorded interest of Hopkins in the
Welsh language (see p. 440) .
34* 3. F, W. Burton: (Sir) Frederic William Burton (1816-1900; see DNB),
water-colourist and, later, Director of the National Gallery (1874-94). He
attained considerable distinction for his portraits in water-colour and
drawings in Dublin 1826-51; then worked and studied in Germany, till
1858, before settling in London. Exhibited regularly as Member of Old
Water-Colour Society 1856-70, including chalk portrait of George Eliot
(now in National Portrait Gallery) and several genre drawings under
influence of Old German Masters. Gave up his art on accepting Director-
ship of National Gallery 1874. See also pp. 31 and 33.
34* 4. Niclas Geop. Text gives Kovhirov aKevaala (‘preparation of spiced
wine*), kovBltov in note. GMH found kovSItos olvos in Liddell and Scott,
edns 1855 or 1861, and was rightly surprised, as this accent changed mean-
ing from ‘spiced wine’ to ‘wine cooled by being buried in the earth*. Edns
to 1849 had kovSltos, to which edn of 1889 reverted.
35, I . The lawless honey. Possibly a reference to i Sam. xiv. 24 ff. Cf. ‘the
men . . . Which once were disobedient’ of the next fragment.
35, 2. the hill. The half-page above this, containing on recto GMH’s sketch
of his reflection in a lake (see fig. 27), and on verso the curious fragment
of verse given, is cut out. Deposited at Campion Hall 1949.
NOTES TO EARLY DIARIES
317
35. 3. Miss Story's character, GMH wrote c, 14 Aug. 1864 to Baillie from
Maentwrog: ‘We have four Miss Storys staying in the house, girls from
Reading. This is a great advantage — but not to reading’ {LL^ iii. 213). He
was probably wrong in thinking at first they were all sisters; one was
surely Louisa May. Counting all versions and variants there are 70 extant
lines of these verses: the printed version of 32 lines is written continuously
in MS, though the order of the last 12 is possibly uncertain. The first
parts of the draft were written very shakily, as if still ‘in the van’, or at
least while travelling; ‘Miss Louisa May’ &c. is written at the top of a
later left-hand page in a quite firm and obviously feminine hand. It seems
she was asked to write her name and address ahead on a blank page of
the book, and that the verses were written round it. After some shaky
later lines of the drafts is written: ‘Train from Chalk Farm to Croydon.*
Many of the verses were thus drafted on the move; but the MS of the
printed version is firm and relatively fair.
35. 4. *Her prime . . . years'^ written, also shakily, among drafts of ‘Miss
Story’; probably a parody of CMFI’s own; the apostrophes and the
omission of the month tend to confirm this.
35. 5. Henry Nehon Coleridge: Introductions to the Study of the Greek Classic
Poets, Part i (1830). This was on Homer; no more published.
35.6. Gresley, Re vd William (1801-76), Prebendary of Lichfield ; a prolific
author of novels, handbooks, and sermons which did a great deal to popular-
ise Tractarianism in the Parishes, outside academic circles; among them
was A Short Treatise on the English Church (1845). Cresley became first
incumbent of the new church of All Saints’, Boyne Hill, Maidenhead,
designed by Sti ect (see p. 36 1 ) , and had for his curate there Richard Temple
West (see p. 397).
36. I. Chronicles of Carlingford, 3rd series, *The Perpetual Curate', by Mrs
Margaret Oliphant, 3 vols, Blackwood, 1864.
36. 2. Max Muller, Friedrich (1823-1900; see DNB), was already one of
the chief living authorities on comparative philology as well as an out-
standing Sanskrit scholar. At the time of this note (summer 1864), he held
the Taylorian Chair of Modern European Languages in Oxford. He had
already published several important Sanskrit texts; An Essay on Comparative
Mythology ( 1 856) ; The German Classics from the 4th to the igth Centuries ( 1 858) ;
and The Science of Language, two courses of public lectures given at the
Royal Institution 1861 and 1863. CMH certainly read The Science of
Language. Letters to Baillie over 20 years later (LL, iii. 262-3) ^i^so show
his interest in Muller’s pioneer work in comparative mythology. Manley
Hopkins sent Max Muller a copy of his Hawii (1862): they corresponded
about the chapter on language and later met in Oxford. For the influence
of Muller and other philologists on GMH, see Alan Ward’s note, p, 500.
3^' 3. The Christians of St. Thomas and their Liturgies, by George Bradley Howard
(Parker, 1864), about the ancient Christian Church of S. India, was among
the Hopkfns family books, with Manley Hopkins’s signature.
NOTES TO EARLY DIARIES
318
37. I. Mrs. Hopley. Not known; but it would be well within the family
tradition of word-play for this to be a combination of Hopkins and Manley.
37. 2. He's wedded . . . his head. Cancelled in MS.
37, 3. Roupel . . .'. William Roupell, former MP for Lambeth, made a full
confession of his forgeries at his trial in 1862. The punning displayed in
this and the next two entries was characteristic of the Hopkins family.
38. I. The poetical language lowest. These notes are expanded in a letter to
Baillie of 10 Sept. 1864 (LL, iii. 215-20). They were intended for an essay.
For later uses of the term ‘Parnassian’, see LL, ii. 72, 84,
39, I . in her cheeks .... Possibly intended for another verse of lo (see p. 38).
40. I . It does amaze me ... . The first of these blank verse fragments. Gf.l to
Baillie, 10 Sept. 1864, ‘What do you think? It occurred to me that t^e
story of Floris in Italy is dramatic, and all of a sudden I began to turn it into
a play. It is a great experiment . . . {LL, iii. 221).
40. 2. Welli I know not ... . The following 14 lines, which seem clearly to
belong here, have been moved back from early in C. II (Sept. 1864). A
stage-direction [Comes to the bed] immediately before them has been omitted
as redundant.
43. I . Why what a boorish opening is that! The first note-book, C. I, ends here.
43. 2. Continued from last volume. Here begins the small pocket note-book,
identical with C. I, described in these notes as C. II. It is inscribed on the
end-paper ‘G. M. Hopkins. / Sept, 9. 1864.’ Under ‘Continued . . .’ on the
first page, the text begins as an immediate continuation of the scene in
dialogue which ends C. I. The MS is mostly in pencil, with a few parts
written over in ink.
44. I. Polly Oliver . . .: the first three are popular 18th-century tunes;
Watkin's Ale is an Elizabethan dancc-tunc used in virginal music; Die drei
Roselein a Swabian folk-song, Hopkins later told Bridges that he associated
a ‘Westcountry “instress”, a most peculiar product of England’, with
‘airs like Weeping Winefred, Polly Oliver, or Poor Mary Ann’ [LL, i. 88).
Polly Oliver y Admiral Benbow, and Watkin's Ale were published in Chappell’s
Popular Music of the Olden Time, 1855-9, to which GMH refers in LL, iii.
109.
44. 2. Aunt Fanny's: Frances Smith, one of GMH’s maternal aunts. Either
she or her sister Laura (sec p. 380) wrote the most vivid and individual
(but unsigned) childhood-memoir of those collected for their brother
Edward’s proposed ‘Book of Memories’ (Fam. Papers). GMH always refers
to her as Fanny, and to his other Aunt Frances (Mrs Edward Hopkins: see
p. 336) as Frances.
47. 1. Clara: probably Clara Lane; see p. 297.
48. I . Her hue's . . . Variant for the last two lines of the 2nd verse of lo-
See p. 38.
48. 2. Rowridge: there is a hamlet of this name just S. of Manley, Devon,
the original home of GMH’s grandmother.
NOTES TO EARLY DIARIES
3^9
I. Distinguish Induction from Example . . this essay exists in the earliest
of GMH’s Oxford essay note-books, catalogued as D. I in appx IV.
49. 2. But if this . . the first entry on two pages cut out of the Diary:
deposited at Campion Hall 1949. Not numbered, but context shows they
fit in here (see below).
49. 3. Butterfield's new church, St Sebastian’s, Wokingham. Style Early
English. Consecrated 10 Dec. 1864.
49, 4. Strachan Davidson, James Leigh (1843-1916), the future Master of
BallioL Eldest son of James Strachan-Davidson of Ardgaith, Perthshire.
Educ. Leamington College. Exh. Balliol 1862. ist Mods 1864 and Greats
1866. President, Union 1867. Fellow 1866-1907; Classical tutor 1872;
dean 1874. Master 1907-16. Published Problems of the Roman Criminal Law,
1912, and edited various Classical texts. GMH spent an afternoon boating
with him in his first week at Balliol {LL, iii. 72), but this Diary entry is the
only time he refers to him again. He was a close friend of P. F. Willert
(see p. 301). See Memoir by J. W. Mackail, 1925.
49. 5. Hasel[e]y Ct, Tetsworth was the home of Lionel Muirhead (see p. 302).
50. I. ^St. Dorothea'. Substantially the same version as that later written out
for Bridges (see his note in Poems, p. 217) and copied out by Dolben (sec
p. 326).
50. 2. Towse, John Ranken (1845-1933). At Highgate with GMH. Clare,
Cambridge 1865. Journalist. Wrote Sixty Tears of the British Stage. See LL,
iii, 4 and note.
50. 3. Leach, Probably Richard Howell Leach, the Hopkins’s next-door
neighbour in Oak Hill, Hampstead. His sons were at Highgate with GMH.
50. 4. Mrs. Cunliffc was a cousin of Baillie’s, living in or near Hampstead,
whom GMH had met in the summer of 1864 and found ‘a most engaging
lady’ [LL, iii. 21 1). She was a friend of Anne Thackeray Ritchie, whose
Tennyson, Ruskin and Browning (1892) has much about her. At her house
one night Hopkins met Christina Rossetti and Jenny Lind.
50. 5. Etherege. GMH had no contemporary of this name at Oxford, nor at
Highgate before that; and the picture is hardly that of Sir George Etherege,
the dramatist (? 1634-92). But could it be a nickname for a would-be
rakish or foppish acquaintance, who had some affinities with the ‘gentle
George’ (as the dramatist was known to his friends) ?
50- 6. The Anatomy : presumably Burton’s Anatomy of Melancholy.
50* 7 * PoUtian: Angelo Poliziano (1454-94), Italian humanist and poet.
50* 8. like pinkish paper: the last words on the two pages cut out (see note
above) . They clearly link up with the rest of the lampoon.
5®' I. Coleridge, Ernest Hartley (1846-1920), grandson of STC and one of
GMH’s closest school-friends at Highgate 1858-60. Son of Revd Derwent
Coleridge, first Principal of St Mark’s College, Chelsea. Went to Sher-
borne, 1862-6, after Highgate. Balliol 1866-70; 3rd Mods 1868,4th Greats
^870. Acted as private tutor 1872-93; was secretary in 1894 to his cousin,
John Duke Coleridge, the Lord Chief Justice (whose Life and Correspondence
320 NOTES TO EARLY DIARIES
he published in 1904) ; then devoted himself to editing works of his grand-
father (Letters ofS.T.C., 1895; ^nima Poetae, 1895; Poetical Works of S,T.C.,
1912) and of Byron (Poetical Works of Lord Byron^ 7 vols, 1898-1903). Also
published his own Poemsy 1898. GMH sent him his poem 11 Mystica (Poems,
pp. 280-5) letter 5 Sept. 1862, which he began ‘dear poet’ and
ended ‘mind you send me some poetry in your next . . .’ (LL, iii. 5-14).
Two further of the seven surviving letters to him published in LL, iii, show
that they were discussing religious problems with each other in June 1864
and Jan. 1866. In Oct. 1867 Coleridge was anxious to visit Hopkins at
The Oratory and to hear Newman preach (LL, iii. 45) ; and in 1868 GMH
visited Coleridge’s family at Hanwell (see p. 168). An inquiry about his
marriage (to Sarah Mary Bradford, of Newton Abbot, in 1876) is the cjnly
reference to him in Hopkins’s letters after 1867.
51. 2. Carte: carte de visite portrait, a small photograph of himself mounted
on a card. To exchange such caites was normal during the early stages of a
friendship and implied some personal feeling. In this case Oxenham had
suggested it: ‘I am far too much honoured by Oxenham’s request to
refuse the carte, which you will find enclosed’ (GMH to Urquhart, LL, iii.
17). There are innumerable cartes de visile of relations and friends in the
Hopkins Fam. Papers.
51. 3. Oxenhamy Henry Nutcombe (1829-88; see DNB), son of a Harrow
master and nephew of T. T. Carter. Harrow and Balliol ; 2nd Classics
1 850. Regular Union speaker, ‘full of a kind of Edinburgh Review smartness’ :
eloquently supported motion that ‘the Company of Jesus has deserved well
of the Church and of mankind’. Failed to obtain at least six Fellowships.
Ordained in Church of England; curate at Worminghall and St. Bartholo-
mew’s, Cripplegate. Received into Roman Church by Manning 1857;
always believed in validity of his Anglican orders, retaining dress and
visiting-cards unaltered. Found by Jesuits and Oratorians to have no
vocation. ‘Habitual obedience was morally impossible’. Active member of
the Association for the Promotion of the Unity of Christendom (the
‘APUC’) ; contributor to Essays on the Reunion of Christendom, ed. F. G. Lee,
1867. ‘He clung to Oxford, and would go there on a few days’ visit to men
far his juniors as his own contemporaries disappeared.’ ‘No one had a
happier faculty of endearing himself in the manliest and simplest fashion
to young men. All the sealed fountains of his own nature seemed to be
unlocked by their society, and they were often surprised by his recollection
of birthdays, and by Christmas books and cards.’ GMH had now just
met him for the first time when he was staying with Robinson Ellis at
Trinity, and was asked for a photograph. He saw a good deal of Oxenham
in Oxford in Dec. 1865. In Oct. 1866 he was disparaging Oxenham’s
‘minimising’ Romanism (LL, iii. 28). After getting his First in 1867 he
wrote : ‘Oxenham writes me congratulatory etc notes harder to answer than
the Greats papers’ (LL, iii. 39). Oxenham published several books of verse,
works of theology, and contributions to periodicals, especially the Saturday
Review in and after 1870. He retained many intimate Anglican friends,
notably Liddon and John Oakley, Dean of Manchester, whose pamphlet
NOTES TO EARLY DIARIES
321
H. N. Oxenham, Recollections of an old Friend, signed ‘Vicesimus’ (Manchester,
1888), has provided the unattributed quotations in this note.
51,4. Wood, Alexander (1845-1912): 2nd son of Gapt. John Dennistoun
Wood, RN, of Largo, Fifeshire. He had a strict Presbyterian upbringing.
Educated at Harrow for two terms, then by a private tutor. Trinity,
Oxford 1863. BA, non-collegia te 1870. Received into the Catholic Church
15 Oct. 1866, on hearing of Hopkins’s conversion {LL, hi. 30). Spent some
time in Rome and America. Married Apr. 1874. Lived in Sussex, where he
knew Patmore ; then in Hampstead. Published The Ecclesiastical Antiquities
of London and its Suburbs (1874); The Pope and Italy and The Vatican and the
Quirinal (pamphlets in English and Italian, 1882) ; and another pamphlet
(in Italian only) on University education for Catholics (1883: see LL, iii.
299). Most of these facts are taken from Fr J. H. Crehan’s valuable article
on GMH’s friendship with Wood, ‘More Light on Gerard Hopkins* ( The
Month, Oct. 1953). Hopkins met Wood early in 1864, and there are many
references to him in LL, iii, as well as in his two diaries. After their conver-
sion, Wood, Addis, and GMH were confirmed together by Manning, on
St Charles’s day (4 Nov.), 1866, in St Mary of the Angels, Bayswater.
51. 5. Furius Bibaculus, The quotation is from Quintilian, viii. 6. 17. Horace
parodies the line : ‘Furius hibernas cana nive conspuet Alpes’ {Sat. ii. 5. 41).
Guthrie, in his translation of Quintilian, substituted the famous line from
Sylvester’s Du Bartas, so that his sentence reads :
‘Some metaphors arc likewise hard to be comprehended, because of
their incongruity with the object; as when a poet says, that “Jupiter
periwiged with snow the bald-pate woods’” (edn 1805, vol. ii, p. 135.)
51. 6. 'Nec licuit populis . . .’ Lucan x. 296; quoted by De Quincey at the
opening of Homer and the Homeridae. This essay was first published in
Blackwood's Magazine (Oct., Nov., Dec. 1841) and reprinted in vol. vi of
the Collected Writings (1857) ; in Masson’s edn vol. vi, 7 (1897). De Quincey
wrote ‘imbecility’.
5a. I. Keats. The quotation is from Notes on Gilfillan's Literary Portraits: John
Keats. This essay is also in vol. vi of the Collected Writings (1857).
52. 2. Miss Story. See p. 35 and n. 3.
53. 1. A, Spooner, probably William Archibald (1844—1930), eldest son of
William Spooner, County Court Judge of North Staffs. Oswestry Grammar
Sch. Sch. New College 1862. ist Mods 1864 and Greats 1866. Fellow
1867; tutor 1869; dean 1883. Ordained 1872. Warden of New College
^903““24- Published The Histories of Tacitus (1891)1 Bishop Btdler, his Life
and Writings (1901). His younger brother, Henry Maxwell, was at Balliol
1864-8.
53. 2. De Quincey spent about three months in the house of Prof. J. P.
Nichol, the astronomer, in the Old College, Glasgow, in 1840 or 1841. He
then had lodgings in High Street, later at 79 Renfield Street these last,
full of papers and books, he kept on until 1847 (Alexander H. Japp, 77 iomar
Quincey, new edn 1890, p. 236). E. Sackville West, A Flame in Sun-
iight, 1936, p. 275, gives a similar picture of De Quincey’s ‘silting up* his
B 0628 Y
322
NOTES TO EARLY DIARIES
lodgings with papers. John Nichol, the son, was at Balliol 1855-9, a great
friend of Swinburne and founder of the Old Mortality Club; Professor of
English Literature at Glasgow 1862-89,
53 * 3- Mewmariy William Lambert (1834-1923); Fellow, History lecturer,
and Senior Dean of Balliol.
53# 4. Lakey Herbert John, b. 1846, 4th son of Henry Lake, a London solici-
tor, was GMH’s only contemporary at Oxford of this name. New College
Oct. 1864; 1st Mods 1866, 3rd Law and History 1867. Barrister, Lincoln’s
Inn 1870. Practising in 1885.
54 . I. Wall, Revd Henry (1810-73), Fellow and Bursar of Balliol. See
LLy iii. 74 and note.
54 . 2. Confessed to Liddon. Henry Parry Liddon (1829-90), Pusey’s intimziite
friend, supporter, and biographer, had resigned his Vice-Principalship iof
St, Edmund Hall in 1862 and held no University office until appointeifl
Ireland Professor of Exegesis 1870. As a Student of Christ Church he
lived in College and devoted himself to pastoral work among under-,
graduates: his spiritual influence over very many of them was probably
at its greatest during these eight years. Following Pusey, he had been a
main reviver of private confession and in 1873 joined with him in defending
it (see Liddon ’s Life of E. B. Pusey, iv. 265-70). During this year Hopkins
confessed to Pusey as well (see p. 71); but Liddon was his regular con-
fessor. For letters between Liddon, GMH, and Manley Hopkins at the
time of GMH’s conversion, see LL, iii; and for Liddon’s life, J. O.
Johnston’s Life and Letters of Henry Parry Liddon, Longmans, 1904.
54 . 3- F.I.C.-. ‘Friends in Council’, a debating-society centred mainly on
Balliol, named evidently after the title of Sir Arthur Helps’s series of books
which came out 1847-59. Anson belonged, and Sanday (see next note)
stayed a leading member after moving to Corpus.
54 . 4. Sandafs new rooms, William Sanday (1843-1920), the distinguished
Biblical scholar, was a year senior to GMH. Repton. Balliol 1862-3; Sch.
Corpus 1863-6; 1st Mods 1863, ^st Greats 1865; President, Union 1867.
Fellow of Trinity 1866-73. Ordained 1867. Rector, Barton-on-the-Heath
1873-6; Principal, Bishop Hatfield’s Hall, Durham 1876-83; Dean Ire-
land’s Professor of Exegesis, Oxford 1882-95. Fellow and tutor of Exeter
1883-95 ; Lady Margaret Professor of Divinity and Canon of Christ Church
1 895— 1919. He published numerous works on the New Testament, especially
the Gospels, besides The Life of Christ in Recent Research, 1907, and other
preliminary studies for a life of Christ (which was never written). GMH
admired him greatly as an undergraduate and ^hared Gurney’s opinion
that he was ‘the most charming man’ he knew {LL, iii. 77) . Sanday was also
a great friend of Bridges, who travelled to Germany with him in 1868
{LL, i. 21).
54 . 5. Sharpens and M, Arnold^s articles in the National, Two unsigned articles
in the National Review during 1864 were likely to have been written by
Samuel Sharpe, the Unitarian banker, Egyptologist, and Biblical scholar:
a review of Dr Smith’s History of the Bible (Jan.) and On the Relation of Ihe
Pauline Epistles to the Historical Books of the New Testament (Nov.). Neither
NOTES TO EARLY DIARIES
323
can be verified, as the records of the publishers (Chapman & HaU) for
this period perished in the last War.
There were two articles by Arnold: Joubert; or A French Coleridge (Jan.:
unsigned) and The Functions of Criticism at the Present Time (Nov. : signed, but
not listed in Smart’s Bibliography of 1892). Both were reprinted in Essays
in Criticism^ 1865.
54. 6. Englishman's Magazine: The Englishman's Magazine of Literature ^
Religion^ Science, and Art. Vols. i and ii only were published, Jan. and July
1865. Vol. i had two articles of obvious interest to Hopkins: a Memoir of
Capt. J. H. Speke, whose Journal of the Discovery of the Nile he refers to (see
p. 21), and a paper on Town Churches by G. E. Street (see p. 361).
54. 7. Article on the Grotesque was in the National Review, see p. 60 and n. 9.
55. I. Urquhart, Edward William (1839-1916), was the eldest son of Adam
Urquhart, advocate and Sheriff of Wigtown. Educated Edinburgh Academy
and Trinity College, Glenalmond. Balliol 1857-61; 2nd Mods 1859; ^st
Law and History 1861. Deacon 1862. Priest 1863. For a time private
tutor for Hons School of Law and Modern History, Oxford. Curacies at
Bedminster, Bristol (1862-4), SS Philip and James, Oxford (1864-6),
Bovey Tracey (1866-73), where, Apr. 1872, he married Caroline Mary,
daughter of William Harris of Plumley (see p. 373). Vicar of King’s Sutton,
Northants. 1873--86. Chaplain of St Mary’s, Brondesbury 1887-9. Licensed
preacher, Diocese of Exeter 1890-1908. As a curate at SS Philip andjames,
he was one of GMH’s closest High Church friends at Oxford. Member of
both the Brotherhood of the Holy Trinity and the Hexameron; and figures
several times in William Bright’s Journal (‘Another hope for the cause fails.
Urquhart not elected to any one of the 4 Fellowships at All Souls’ : entry for
3 Nov. 1864), He was the only friend whom Hopkins, in Sept. 1866,
‘deliberately told’ of his conversion {LL, iii. 26) ; and GMH’s other pub-
lished letters to him at this period show Urquhart’s own perplexities about
remaining in Anglican orders or joining the Church of Rome. Cf. Bright’s
Journal, Oct. 1865: ‘Cundy . . . heard that Urquhart, last term, having
read Ward’s Ideal, told some undergraduates — much to their scandal —
that he thought Rome was right. To me, only the other day, he called the C. of
E. “owr poor dry branch".' His published articles and pamphlets include The
Oxford University Election of 1^5; Remarks on the Position of the Catholic Party
under the Recent Judgment of the Committee of the Privy Council in Martin v.
Mackonochie (A paper read . . . Jan. 26th., 1869: Chudleigh, for Private
Circulation) ; and The Doctrine of the Real Presence (Paper read at Salisbury,
Apr. 1889: Mowbrays), of which there are many extracts in Walsh,
Secret History of the Oxford Movement, pp. 224-5. For GMH’s stay with him
at Bovey Tracey, see pp. 153-7. For additional information provided by
Miss Urquhart, his daughter, see LL, iii, 438 (note C) ; and for a photo-
graph of c. i860, LL, iii. 39.
55 ‘ 2. Whitaker, Walter Eugene, eldest son of Edwin Eugene Whitaker, of
Caine, Wilts; b. 1844. Sch. BNC 1862-5. 2nd Mods 1864; 2nd Greats
1866. Member of BHT. Ordained 1868. Rector of Holcombe 1874; of
Babington i886.
324 NOTES TO EARLY DIARIES
55. 3. Hood, probably Henry John, b. 1845, BNG 1863 {LL, i. 19 refers to
‘Hood of Brasenose*). Eldest son of Henry Schubach Hood of Paddington.
BA 1868. Barrister, Inner Temple 1870. Co-author, with H. W. Challis
(see p. 378), of Hood and Challis on the Conveyancing and Settled Land Acts, 1882
and 1884.
55, 4. Grose, Thomas Hodge (1845-1906), Sch. Balliol 1864-9; of the
few men to take firsts in both Classics (ist Mods 1866 and Greats 1868) and
Maths (ist Mods 1866 and Finals 1868). Fellow of Queen’s 1870, where
he spent the remainder of his life as tutor and chaplain. President, Union
1871 and its first Senior Treasurer. Ordained 1872. Joint-editor with
T. H, Green of The Philosophical Works of David Hume, 1874-5. Registrar
of the University 1897 to his death. One of first members of the A])?ine
Club. ‘Grose’s best work was done in his rooms at Queen’s. Shy and\ re-
served in manner, with gestures that were awkward and a voice that \Vas
gruff, he won the respect and affection of many generations of under-
graduates’ {DNB),
55. 5. Geldart, Edmund Martin (1844-85 ; see DNB), was the son of Thomas
Geldart and Hannah Ransome, authoress of popular religious books for
children. He had a strict evangelical upbringing. Educated Merchant
Taylors* and Manchester Grammar Sch. (after his father’s move from
Reigate to superintend the Manchester City Mission 1856). Sch. Balliol
1863; 2nd Mods 1864; 2nd Greats 1867. Asst master (Modern Languages)
at Manchester Grammar Sch., but left owing to ill health. Taught in
Athens and learnt modern Greek, Married Charlotte Andler, a German.
Ordained in Church of England : curacies in Manchester and Liverpool
1869-72. Became a Unitarian 1873. Minister, Hope Street Chapel,
Liverpool 1873-7; acting, then full Minister, Free Christian Church,
Croydon 1877-85. Early in 1885, ‘his opinioas on many subjects were
regarded as socialistic’ by his congregation, and he resigned. On 10 Apr.
he set off for a holiday in France, got on to the night boat for Dieppe, and
was never seen again. GMH, like others, supposed it was suicide (LL, iii.
254). His thinly-disguised autobiography, A Son of Belial, by ‘Nitram
Tradleg’ (1882), in which GMH appears as Gerontius Manley, ‘my
ritualistic friend’, gives a very interesting picture of Oxford and Balliol
in the mid-i86o’s. The DNB lists 13 other publications, including several
volumes of sermons, three books on modern Greek, and a translation of
Zacher’s The Red International (1885). The posthumous Echoes of Truth
(1886), edited by Mrs Geldart, contains sermons, introductory sketch by
the Revd G. B. Upton, and a portrait. Hopkina_5aw a lot of Geldart as an
undergraduate and gave his mother a vivid caricature of him in his first
letter to her from Balliol (LL, iii. 70), He stayed with the family near
Manchester in July 1865. He then lost touch with him, but renewed his
friendship some weeks before his death (LL, iii. 254). Ernest Geldart (see
p. 339) was his younger brother.
55. 6, Fra Bartolommeo's portrait of Savonarola. There are two known portraits,
both now in the Convent of San Marco, Florence : an early profile, painted,
according to Vasari, just before the martyrdom, inscribed ‘Hicronyim
NOTES TO EARLY DIARIES
325
Ferrariensis, a Deo missi prophetae effigies’; and a portrait of St Peter
Martyr with the features of Savonarola, painted much later at Pian di
Mugnone. GMH may have been referring to the former, certainly the
more impressive portrait and only then recently identified by its owner,
E. Rubieri. It appeared as frontispiece to the new edition of Villari’s Life
and Times of Savonarola^ 1878.
55- 7* Charles Alan (1845-92), only son of Lawrence Hay Fyffe, a
Blackheath doctor. Educated Christ’s Hospital. Exh. Balliol 1864; ist
Mods 1865; 3rd Maths Mods 1865; 1st Greats 1867. President, Union
1867. Fellow, University College 1869; tutor 1870; steward of estates and
bursar 1885. Acted as a Daily News correspondent during first part of
Franco-Prussian War. Barrister, Inner Temple 1876, but did not prac-
tise. Published History of Modern Europe, 3 vols, 1880-90, which went
through many editions as a brilliant sketch of modern politics. Of strong
liberal views, he was one of founders of free land league, and stood un-
successfully as Radical for city of Oxford.
55 . 8 . Dolben, Digby Mackworth (8 Feb. 1848-28 June 1867), poet and
religious enthusiast. He was the youngest of the three sons and daughter
of William Harcourt Isham Mackworth and Frances, daughter of William
Somerset Dolben of Finedon Hall, Northants. His father took the extra
surname of Dolben after his marriage and made Finedon Hall his home.
Eton Jan. 1862-Dec. 1864, where he was an intimate friend ofV. S. S. Coles
and Robert Bridges (a distant cousin), and became known for his Catholic
propensities; then sent to Constantine Prichard (see p. 335) and other
private tutors, to prepare for Balliol. Early in 1864, while still at Eton,
joined Ignatius Lyne’s Third Order of St. Benedict, and two years later
caused some sensation by walking through Birmingham in his monk’s
habit and barefoot. In Mar. 1867, after correspondence with Newman,
finally decided to become a Roman Catholic, but promised his family not
to be received until after Easter. On i May sat for Matriculation at Ox-
ford, but fainted during the examination and was failed. Returned to
Prichard at S. Luffenham Rectory, and was drowned while swimming in
the river Welland, 28 June. For a full account of his life and poetry see
RB’s Memoir in The Poems of Digby Mackworth Dolben, OUP, 1911, reprinted
in Three Friends (1932). His earliest extant verse, of an unusual religious
intensity, dates from 1864; and six of his poems were published in F. G.
Lee’s Union Review, 1864-6 (for refs see revised edn of Dolben’s Poems,
P* 1 4 ®)* not received into the Catholic Church: but letters
from Newman to Coles and to William Sewell (Oratory, Birmingham
MSS) make it clear that at his death he was awaiting reception, as a
catechumen, with Newman’s approval.
This Diary entry follows Hopkins’s only meeting with Dolben, during
the latter’s visit to Bridges at Oxford Feb. 1865: ‘[Dolben] must have been
^ good deal with him, for Gerard conceived a high admiration for him,
and always spoke of him afterwards with great affection’ {Memoir, p.
Ixviii). There seems little doubt that Dolben was closely bound up with the
^"^ligious crisis of that March which led to GMH’s ‘day of the great mercy of
God’ (12 Mar.), his first recorded confession, and daily notes for confession;
NOTES TO EARLY DIARIES
326
and it is at least probable that the sonnet ‘Where art thou friend, whom I
shall never see’ {PoemSf p. 19), entered in the Diary between 23 and 27 Apr,,
was addressed to him. They corresponded for a year after this, perhaps
longer: at first one-sidedly, Hopkins complained to Bridges (IL, i. i); but
then ‘Dolben’s letter came for which Glory to God* (Diary, 6 Nov: see
p. 71). Later, in a long and impressive letter to Newman of 20 Mar. 1867
(Oratory, Birmingham MSS), Dolben wrote, of his decision to become a
Catholic, ‘Hopkins’s conversion hastened the end*.
For GMH’s letter to RB on Dolben’s death, see p. 368. Despite its
sense of loss, it could suggest, taken as a whole, that Dolben was no longer
of such importance to him. But a single quatrain, written on the back pf his
translation of Horace’s Odi profanum volgus (see appx. IV, p. 534), may
possibly be a more intimate comment: \
‘Not kind! to freeze me with forecast.
Dear grace and girder of mine and me.
You to be gone and I lag last —
Nor I nor heaven would have it be.*
{Pomsy p. 264; printed as a note.)
The beginning, on the same sheet, of a letter to Laura Hodges (with whom
GMH had been staying in Jan. 18G8), almost certainly dates this fragment
to his last term at the Oratory, Edgbaston (Jan.-Apr. 1868). It seems
to refer to the recent death of someone he values highly; and if it is
not Dolbcn’s, it is difficult to suggest whose it could be. Over five years
later, Hopkins recorded in his Journal, between 30 Aug. and 8 Sept. 1873,
‘I received as I think a great mercy about Dolben’: a phrase he use.s
elsewhere (see p. 425) to express his conviction of a token from heaven
signifying someone’s salvation.
None of Hopkins’s or Dolben’s letters to each other seem to have sur-
vived: but some of their copies of each other’s poems have. Among
GMH’s papers at Campion Hall is a copy in his hand of Dolben’s Methought,
through many years and lands [Poems, No. 53), marked ‘Found after his death’;
and he had been shown earlier poems also [Memoir, p. Ixxxvi). Among tlie
Dolben Family Papers (Northants. Record Society, Lamport Hall) is a
note-book (D[F]2) containing Dolben’s copies of early versions of GMH’s
Heaven-Haven and For a Picture of S. Dorothea (see p. 33 and n. 3 ; p. 50 and
n. i). Together with three poems of Dolben’s own [The Poems of D. M.
Dolben, Nos. 25, 46, and 49) and two other poems, probably also his, but
unpublished ( The Holy Name and The Paradox), they form a small collection
called by him ‘Hortulus Poematum’.
56 . I. The Spiritual Combat, by . . . Lawrence Scupoli . . . with the Path of
Paradise, by the same. Translated (with the additional chapters) from the
Italian, for the use of members of the English Church. [Edited by Dr
Puscy, who signs the preface ‘E.B.P.’, Quinquagesima, 1846.]
This description, from Falconer Madan’s admirable Bibliography of
Pusey’s printed works (Liddon, Life of Pusey, iv, appx A) covers also
the 2nd edn of 1849. work of Scupoli had had an earlier Anglican
edition in 1656, and had been recommended by Bp Wilson, In mid-
NOTES TO EARLY DIARIES
327
19th century it was common devotional reading, for instance, among
French seminarists.
56. 2. Villari: see p. 312.
56. 3. Cathedral, The English Cathedral of the Nineteenth Century^ By A. J. B.
Beresford Hope .... With Illustrations, John Murray, 1861. A lively,
popular, historical, and comparative discussion of the architecture and
purposes of cathedrals, with sections on their place in contemporary
English church life; includes Anglican cathedrals overseas, and is thus
relevant not only to GMH’s own life but to Manley Hopkins’s plans for
Honolulu.
56. 4. Denison^ EdmundBeckett (1816-1905), was the man who, by compli-
cated family changes (see DNB), became Sir Edmund Beckett in 1872 and
Lord Grimthorpe in 1886, famous for the ‘restoration’ of St Alban’s
Cathedral (see p. 186 and n.) and for designing Big Ben. The book GMH
means is probably Lectures on Gothic Architecture^ chiefly in relation to St
George's Church at Doncaster ( 1 855) ; but the vagueness of the reference makes
it seem as if he only knew it by hearsay. Denison worked with Sir Gilbert
Scott at Doncaster (cf. St Peter’s, Croydon: see p. 363).
56 . 5 . T r acts for the Times ; Essays and Reviews. I i is remarkable that even at this
date GMH had apparently not read either any of the Tracts or the famous
‘neologising’ volume published in i860; that he had not read the latter
ran only mean that he was hardly at all ‘tinged with the liberalism
prevalent among reading men’, as Addis said he was {Life^ P- 19; Farm St
MSS). After two years at Balliol it was a considerable abstinence not to
have read jowett’s essay ‘On the Interpretation of Scripture’.
56. 6. Sakooniala. The spelling suggests that the edition he had heard of was
Sakoontala; or the Lost Ring, An Indian Drama, Translated into English
Prose and Verse, from the Sanskrit of Kalidasa, by Monier Williams ....
Third Edition .... Hertford, 1856.
56. 7. Lacordaire (1802-61). The conjunction of his name with Matthew
Arnold’s suggests that GMH may have been reading the account of the visit
to Lacordaire’s school at Sor^ze in A French Eton ( 1 864) . There was much
in his career as preacher, liberal politician, and educationist to attract
Englishmen and especially Puseyites. Dora Greenwell’s Lacordaire ap-
peared in 1867, the Life by his friend Montalcmbert (1862) in an English
version in 1863. Or GMH might have read the description of Oxford in
Lettres d des Jeunes Gens (1862) which inspired William Cory to write his
sonnet ‘Lacordaire at Oxford’.
5^' 8. Life Portraits of William Shakespeare : a history of the various representa-
tions of the Poet, with an examination into their authenticity. By J. Hain
Friswcll. Illustrated by Photographs of the most authentic Portraits ....
Sampson Low, 1864.
9- The Story of Elizabeth. Anne Thackeray’s first novel, a romantic story
set in Paris, appeared in serial form in the Cornhill, beginning Sept. 1862,
and was published anonymously the following year. It gave the quickly-
recognized authoress a popular reputation at once. ‘It was just after the
NOTES TO EARLY DIARIES
publication of Elizabeth, and Mrs Kemble said to Thackeray that people
were beginning to say that Anny stood next to him as a writer, and he
replied with emotion: “Yes, it tears my guts out!”’ (Rhoda Broughton,
quoted in Letters of Anne Thackeray, ed. Hester Ritchie, London, 1924).
GMH was ‘Reading with delight’ her Cinderella a year later: see p. 140.
56. 1 0. Emilia in England. By George Meredith. 3 vols. London, 1 864. Meredith
changed the title to Sandra Belloni in the i vol. edition of 1887.
56. II. Wootlon Church: not the Wootton near Oxford, but Wootton,
Northants., in the diocese of Peterborough. The parish church was re-
opened after Butterfield’s restorations on 16 Feb. 1865. Apart from the
Butterfield connexion, GMH’s interest may have arisen through the reetpr,
W. W. Woollcombe (1813-B6), being the elder brother of EdwaVd
Woollcombe, one of his tutors (see p. 295). 1
57. I. Pure fasted faces . . the 1st draft of ‘Easter Communion*. The re-
vised draft {Poems, p. 35) was copied into the diary 26 June 1865 and there
dated ‘Lent, 1865*. See p. 63.
58. I. A basket broad . . .: possibly connected with the St Dorothea poem of
c. five months earlier (see p. 50).
58. 2. March 12. A day of the great mercy of God. For suggested connexion of
Dolbcn with the religious crisis leading to this entry, see p. 325.
58. 3. Hexameron subscription. On 17 Mar. 1864 Liddon wrote to the Bishop
of Salisbury: ‘During the last fortnight I have been trying to organise an
Essay Club among the abler undergraduates (some of them Jowett’s own
pupils) whom I happen to know. There are already two such clubs in
existence, which are a great means of propagating sheer unbelief. ... I
hope that we have got together a sufficient body of clever men to make our
Club intellectually respectable, and it will open next Term with an intro-
ductory essay on the relations of Theology to Philosophy . . .’ (Johnston,
pp. 90-91). In spite of slight difficulties about dates and the extent of
Liddon’s initiative, this seems clearly to refer to the club which came to be
called the Hexameron.
S. R. Brooke wrote to Liddon from Corpus in a letter dated merely
‘Saturday night’ : ‘The first general meeting of our Society took place this
evening at 9 (pm). G. A. Simcox (Queens) read an excellent essay upon
^Hhe good old times'\ The test (if it indeed can be properly called by that
name) which the Society agreed upon is embodied in the first rule. “The
object of the Essay Society shall be to promote discussions upon sub-
jects of interest so far as may be consistent with adherence to the doctrines
of the Catholic Faith”.* The letter then invited Liddon to become President
at the unanimous wish of the meeting, and continued : ‘We have decided
to name our Society, the Hexameron Essay Society, because it is to meet
6 days a term. The name meets with general approbation, as committing
members to no very definite line, & as being less startling than many
others wh. have been proposed* (Liddon Papers).
It seems beyond doubt that GMH’s list of ‘the new names* made in
Mar. 1864 (see p. 19) refers to membership of the Hexameron in its early
NOTES TO EARLY DIARIES
389
stage of formation. The Liddon Papers also contain a printed list of
members and rules of the Society for Michaelmas Term 1865: ^President:
Rev. H. P. Liddon (Gh. Gh.); Vice-Presidents: Professor Mansel (St.
John’s), Rev. W. Bright (University), Rev. P. G. Medd (University),
Rev. H. R* Bramley (Magdalen); Honorary Members:^, P. Balmcr (Oriel),
Rev. F. S. Gopeman (Gh. Gh.), Rev. F. Gurney (Balliol) ; Ordinary Mem-
bers: W. Addis (Balliol), W. Av/dry (Balliol), S. R. Brooke (G.G.G.),
H. W. Ghallis (Merton), W. A. Gomyn-Macfarlane (St. John’s), M.
Creighton (Merton), O. E. Gresswell (Trinity), J. Gent (Trinity), A.
Gurney (Exeter), H. de B. Rollings (G.G.G.), G. M. Hopkins (Balliol),
J. R. Madan (Queen’s), W. Moore (New Goll.), H. G. Ogle (Magdalen),
W. G. F. Phillimore (Gh. Gh.), A. Plummer (Trinity), Rev. O. J. Rcichcl
(Queen’s), G. A. Simcox (Queen’s), W. H. Simcox (Queen’s), Rev. E. W.
Urquhart (Balliol), Rev. A. B. Webb (University), A. Wood (Trinity);
Honorary Secretary: S. R. Brooke (G.G.G.).’ At least a dozen of these men
were intimate friends or close acquaintances of Hopkins ; an interesting
name to find is that of Mandell Greighton, as his widow did not mention
the Hexameron in the early Oxford chapters of the Life and Letters \ interest-
ing absentees are Robert Bridges and George Saintsbury.
Of the printed rules. Rule I is as given in Brooke’s letter to Liddon
above. Rule II provides that ‘the number of Ordinary Members, exclusive
of those above the Degree of B.A., shall not exceed twenty-five’. Rule III
says meetings will be on six Mondays in full term, in the rooms of members,
beginning at 9 p.m. (for the meeting in Hopkins’s and Addis’s lodgings
see p. 133). Rule IV says an Ordinary Member is bound to read an essay
yearly or to find a substitute among the members. Rule V says that an
Ordinary Member shall subscribe half-a-crown for his first Term and a
shilling for every succeeding Term.
Hopkins must surely have read at least one essay during his membership,
but none has been identified among his papers. In a letter to Baillie of
10 Sept. 1864 (-^^3 215) he said: ‘I am meditating an essay, perhaps for
the Hexameron, on some points of poetical criticism’ and then continues with
the famous passage about ‘Parnassian’. On 5 Jan. 1865 he wrote to Baillie
{LL, iii. 224) : ‘I am now toiling through an essay for the Hexameron, but
can you tell me what in music answers to realism in painting? . . . Blow
me an answer from thy wreathed horn.’ It is tempting to wonder whether
the Dialogue ‘On the Origin of Beauty* could have been written for the
Hexameron, but it would have taken about two hours to read aloud (see
p. 86 and Preface, p. xxiii) .
59* I- Miss Lloyd: probably Gatharinc Lloyd. See p. 354.
59* 2. I confessed on Saturday, Lady Day, March 25. GMH’s notes for confession,
omitted from the text, begin here. See Preface, p. xx.
59* 3* Butterfield has restored Ottery St Mary church. The beautiful Early English
collegiate church of St Mary was restored in 1849-50, principally through
the influence and liberality of Sir John Taylor Goleridge (STG’s nephew),
Justice of the Queen’s Bench, and his family and friends. His eldest son,
John Duke (1820-94), later Lord Ghief Justice and ist Baron Goleridge,
330
NOTES TO EARLY DIARIES
was certainly rcponsible for the choice of his life-long friend, Butterfield
as architect; and he extolled Butterfield’s work (carried out against the
active opposition of the governors of the church) in a paper on the restora-
tion read to the Exeter Diocesan Architectural Society Sept, 1851 {Transac-
tionSi iv. 189-217). The nave was enlarged by the removal of pews and
galleries and paved with encaustic tiles; the roof painted in polychrome
colours; and a new font of Devon and Cornish marble installed. Butter-
field’s pupil, Woodyer (see p. 374), had earlier restored the Lady Chapel;
and O’Connor (see p. 316) designed several of the new stained-glass
windows under Butterfield’s direction.
The painting of the drawing-room probably refers to the renovatijons
carried out by Butterfield when he added the west wing to Heath’s Court
(now Chanter’s House), the Coleridges’ home at Ottery. Apart from Jiis
interest in Butterfield and church restoration, Hopkins had two imporiapt
links with the Coleridge family: with Ernest Hartley Coleridge (seep. 319);
and with Fr H. J. Coleridge, SJ (see p. 381), John Duke’s younger brother,
who took the Holy Week retreat in 1867 at the Oratory, Birmingham,
recorded by GMH in his Journal.
59. 4. I was wrong about Merton. Butterfield carried out a major restoration
of the Chapel in 1849, enlarging the choir, erecting a new screen and
removing collars from the roof so as to show the whole height of the
E. window. He added most of the fittings and decorations noticed by
Hopkins, two years later. Of these, the font (of green and white marble)
remains; the screen and iron gates have been removed. Butterfield’s
encaustic tiles of red, black, and white squares set diagonally, with a
decorated yellow border, replaced the plain black and white squares of
Ackermann’s print (1814). The same print shows the monument to Sir
Henry Savile in its old position athwart the sedilia. The altar-piece is by
Tintoretto’s son. It is a little odd that GMH did not comment on the roof
of the choir, decorated with medallions and spandril pictures painted
(under Butterfield’s direction) 1850 by Revd J. Hungerford Pollen (1820-
1902), tractarian Fellow of Merton, who became a Roman Catholic in
1852 and was the architect of the University Church in Dublin. {Merton
College Register J Lj^; information kindly supplied by Dr Roger Highfield,
Librarian of Merton; The Ecclesiologist^ 1850). Merton Chapel, also used
then as a parish church for the parish of St John the Baptist, was plainly in
the sixties a common centre and place of worship for the High Church
group. Cf. Bright to Liddon, 14 Sept. 1867: ‘Hope is curate at Holywell,
and [?] trusts to have a good service there next term. Six Merton boys have
joined the choir. This will be something’ (Liddon Papers).
59 * 5* papa: Manley Hopkins (9 July 18 18-26 Aug. 1897), eldest of the
5 children of Martin Edward Hopkins (admitted Freeman of the City of
London as ‘Citizen and Glass-seller’, 13 Sept. 1809) Anne, daughter
of Henry Manley, of Manley, Halberlon, Devon. Born at E. Dulwich.
Left school at 1 5 or less, and after short period in an insurance broker s
office, in which he showed a talent for figures, became pupil of WilHa®
Richards, a London average adjuster, c. 1833. Eleven years later founded
NOTES TO EARLY DIARIES
33 *
at 69 Cornhill his own firm of average adjusters, which grew into Manley
Hopkins, Son and Cookes, still practising at 91 Gracechurch Street in the
City. Was one of leading original members of the profession’s Association,
founded 1873. On 8 Aug. 1843, married Kate Smith (for whom sec p. 304),
eldest child of Dr John Simm Smith, at Ghigwell. They setded at The
Grove, Stratford, Essex, where Gerard and 3 of the 7 children who sur-
vived him were born. In 1852 they moved to Oak Hill, Hampstead (the
house is now No. 9, Oak Hill Park), then on edge of the country, where
they stayed for 34 years. In Feb. 1856 Manley, through the influence of his
brother Charles (see p. 400) , became Consul-General for Hawaii in London,
and remained so for over 40 years. His work was chiefly commercial; but
he also played a large part in the establishment of an Anglican Bishop and
Mission in Honolulu. Both he and Mrs Hopkins were deeply religious
High Anglicans ; and religious practice was a strong force in their children’s
upbringing. Manley was for a time churchwarden of St John’s, Hampstead;
for many years he helped to manage its funds and taught in its Sunday
Schools. He had literary and musical interests; a passion for word-play,
riddles, and puns, shared by Gerard and some of his other children; and
throughout his life he wrote verses, sentimental, medieval, religious, and
humorous, of little if any creative power, but extremely typical of the
period. He published (i) ^ Philosopher's Stone and other Poems [dedicated to
Thomas Hood], Nickisson, 1843; (2) A Handbook of Average, published by
the Author, 1857 (4th edn, Stevens, 1884): this became a classic on the
subject; (3) Hawaii: an historical account of the Sandwich Islands. With a
Preface by the Bishop of Oxford [Samuel Wilbcrforcc], Longmans, 1862;
2nd edn, revised and continued, 1 866 ; (4) A Manual of Marine Insurance,
Smith, Elder, 1867; (5) The Port of Refuge, or advice and instructions to the
Master- Mariner in situations of doubt, difficulty, and danger, 1873; (6) The
Cardinal Numbers, Sampson Low, 1 887 [GMH contributed to this : see LL,
i. 294, and note by Abbott, pp. 321-2]. He and his brother Marsland
published an anonymous volume of poems together, Pietas Metrica; Or,
Nature Suggestive of God and Godliness. By the Brothers Theophilus and
Theophylact, Masters, 1849. The Preface ends: ‘Of the authorship of the
present volume suffice it to say, that one of the writers ministers in the
Temple; the other has admittance to the outer courts only.’ It is dedicated
to The Church ... By Two of Her Sons. Manley’s final volume, Spicilegium
Poeticum, A Gathering of verses by Manley Hopkins, was privately printed
in London: inscriptions on four copies have the date 1892. He also wrote
some short critical notices for The Times', and from 1856 to 1859 a series
of about 20 London news letters (over the pseudonym ‘Fleet Street’) for
the Polynesian, the Hawaiian Govt paper Charles Hopkins edited. Other
literary ventures were less successful: in 1855 Blackwood’s refused the
offer of an essay on Longfellow; and a few years later J. A. Froude rejected
a novel for serial publication by Fraser’s.
in the summer of 1886 the Hopkinses left Hampstead and settled in
Haslemere, Surrey : first at Court’s Hill Lodge, then at The Garth, which
remained the family house till LCH’s death in 1952* Prof. Abbott has
published six of Gerard’s letters to his father and the draft of one letter
332
NOTES TO EARLY DIARIES
from him in LL, iii, where there is a photograph of Manley at p. gi. Two
more of GMH’s letters to him were published in Lance Sieveking’s auto-
biography, Th£ Eye of the Beholder ^ Hulton Press, 1957, and reprinted in
the Month, May 1958.
59 , 6. Amt Amie. Ann Eleanor Hopkins (1815-87), b. Kennington, only
sister of Manley Hopkins, with whom she lived at Stratford, and then for
a few years in Hampstead, during all GMH’s early boyhood; she is the
aunt described in Life (p. 2). While Mrs Hopkins bore and tended the
younger children, much home training and teaching of the elder fell to her.
She had some talent for drawing and painting: there survive, by her, a
pencil-sketch head of GMH dated 1859, with hair and lips touched with
water-colour, and also a water-colour copy of the choir-boy half of Hehw
Barraud’s ‘We Praise Thee, O God’ (See Early Victorian England, ed. G. Wf.
Young, ii. 152) in which the boys’ faces are assimilated to those of Gerard,
Cyril, and Arthur: both these hung in Mrs Manley Hopkins’s bedroom
till her death. Aunt Annie (aided by his father and later by Aunt Maria)
fostered GMH’s early drawing and his early music. GMH described her
to Baillie in 1864 as ‘deep in archaeology etc etc’ (LL, iii. 207) ; and this is
borne out by Lady Jane Franklin: ‘Miss Hopkins, a short plain woman
talked to Sophy rather learnedly of the Gentoo and Buddhist religioas
which Sophy was rather shy of entering upon ’(Diary, 18 July 1862). Ann
Hopkins lived separately with her mother in London 1856-75 (see p. 313),
and then apparently returned to the Manley Hopkinses. Died, unmarried,
at Haslemere 18 May 1887.
59 . 7, Aunt Katie, Katherine Hannah Bcechcy, eldest daughter of Rear-
Admiral F. W. Beechey, the well-known geographer {DNB) and grand-
daughter of Sir William Beechey, portrait-painter to Qjjeen Charlotte
{DNB), On 17 Apr. 1850 she was described by Lot Kamehameha as a ‘very
fine looking person’ (MS Journal, Bishop Museum, Honolulu), and in
LCH’s memory nearly 100 years later she was ‘a very charming person . . .
a very good-looking woman, very High Church’. After an engagement of
over 5J years she married, 4 Dec. 1855, Revd Thomas Marsland Hopkins
(1824-62), Manley Hopkins’s youngest brother. He was at Pcterhousc,
Cambridge; BA 1847; Deacon 1847, Priest 1848, in London Diocese;
Curate, St Gilcs’s-in-the-Fields 1851; Perpetual Curate, St Saviour’s
Paddington 1856, with income 1,100 p.a. Published, with his brother
Manley, an anonymous volume of verse, Pietas Metrica, 1849 (see p. 330 -
A posthumous volume of Sermons was brought out in 1864. They lived at
14 Sussex Gardens, just S. of Paddington Stationyand had three children:
Gertrude Frederica, b. 18 Nov. 1856; Magdalen Katharine, b. 29 Mar.
1859; and Clement, b.(?) 1862. Some time after Marsland Hopkins’s
death (on 21 Jan. 1862), his widow moved to Westboume Villas, close to
St Mary Magdalene’s, Paddington, Richard Temple West’s new church
(see p. 397). She became a very great friend of West’s and LGH wondered
why she did not marry him. Later she lived at 10 Holywell, Oxford, where
GMH used to see her and her children when he was at St Aloysius’s during
1879 (LL, i. 84, 184). She was still alive in 1890.
NOTES TO EARLY DIARIES
333
6 o. I . The Life of Michael Angelo, By Hermann Grimm . • . Translated . . .
by Fanny Elizabeth Bunn^tt, 2 vols, Smith, Elder, 1865. A second edition
came out the same year.
60. 2. The Divine Master [by Felicia M. F. Skene], Masters, 1852. A book of
Devotions based on the Way of the Gross, it reached its 7th edn in 1867.
Felicia Skene also wrote a Memoir of her cousin, Alexander Forbes,
Bp of Brechin, for whom see below.
60. 3. Validity .... This could refer to either of two publications by William
Goode, D.D. : [a) JVon-Episcopal Ordination : an Abridgment of an Article
in the Christian Observer for Nov. 1851 setting forth the Opinions of the
Church of England from Archbishop Cranmer to Archbishop Howley,
London, 1856; or {b) A Vindication of the Doctrine of the Church of England on
the Validity of the Orders of the Scotch and Foreign Non-Episcopal Churches^ in
three pamphlets, &c. London, 1852. Goode (1801-68), Dean of Ripon
i860, was for some years editor of the Christian Observer and became the
recognized champion of the evangelical party in the Church of England,
He published numerous pamphlets attacking the Tractarians.
60. 4. The Teaching of the Types, Tracts for the Clergy and the Earnest
Minded. No. i . The Distinctive Character of the Natural, the Spiritual,
and the Divine Life. No. 2. The Circumcised Israelite in the bondage of
Egypt a Type of the Baptized and Unrenewed Christian. By the Rev.
Robert Aitkcn, Oxford, 1854. Aitken (1800-73) was a fervent and popular
preacher who for a time left the Church of England to preach in Wesleyan
Chapels, and rejoined it in 1840 to become the first incumbent of Pendeen,
Cornwall.
60.5. Dr. Pusey . . . (i) Daniel the Prophet: ‘Nine lectures, delivered in the
Divinity School of the University of Oxford, with copious notes. By the
Rev. E. B. Pusey, D.D.,’ Oxford, 1864. Pusey, as Professor of Hebrew, gave
these lectures during 1862 and 1863 as his contribution to the defence of
the Old Testament against the recent criticism of Essays and Reviews. ‘I
selected the book of Daniel because unbelieving critics considered their
attacks upon it to be one of their greatest triumphs. . . . The exposure of
the weakness of criticism, where it thought itself most triumphant, would,
I hoped, shake the confidence of the young in their would-be misleaders:*
Preface, p. vi.
(ii) Evei lasting Punishment: ‘A sermon [on St. Matth. xxv. 46] preached
before the University ... on the twenty-first Sunday after Trinity, 1864,’
Oxford, 1864. Also published in University Sermons and Selected Occasional
Sermons.
(iii) The Thought of the Love of Jesus for tw, the Remedy for Sins of the Body:
‘A Sermon [on i Cor. vi. 15] preached to younger members of the Uni-
versity, at St. Mary’s Church, Oxford, on Friday evening, March i, [1861].
• • . Published by request,’ Oxford, 1862. Also published in Lent Sermons
3 ^nd Selected Occasional Sermons. Descriptions taken from Falconer Madan’s
bibliography (appxs A and B to Liddon’s Life).
6 . The Bp. of Brechin's defence. Reply to the Pleadings in the Case of Henderson
NOTES TO EARLY DIARIES
and Others v. the Bishop of Brechin^ on the occasion of the Presentment by
Henderson and Others, Masters, i860. Alexander Penrose Forbes (1817-75),
famous for his advocacy of Tractarian principles in the Episcopal Church
of Scotland, was in Feb. i860 found guilty by his brother-bishops of ‘false
teaching’ on the Eucharist; but only mildly punished by ‘a declaration of
censure and admonition’. He continued to work zealously for his diocese
and his parish of St Paul’s, Dundee, until his death 15 years later. The
story of his trial and defence is given in detail by William Perry, Alexander
Penrose Forbes, Bp. of Brechin, the Scottish Pusey, SPCK, 1939. GMH heard
him preach at St Thomas’s, Oxford on 3 June 1866 (see p. 138 and n.).
60. 7. Shairp. Wordsworth: The Man and the Poet, unsigned article in HoHh
British Review, Aug. 1864; revised version in Studies in Poetry and Philosojdi)^,
by J. C. Shairp (later Principal of St Andrews University), Edinburg!^,
1868. GMH later copied out into one of his note-books Shairp’s passage ifi
defence of Wordsworth’s ‘ideal light’ bringing out ‘the real heart of nature*
{Studies in Poetry and Philosophy, pp. 70-71).
60. 8. article . ..on Filioque. The FILIOQUE Controversy, a conciliatory article
in the Christian Remembrancer, Oct. 1864, followed an article similar in tone,
but wider in scope, in the April issue of the same year, Intercommunion with
the Eastern Church. Both were concerned to advance Christian union. The
October article mentions William Palmer (brother of Edwin, GMH’s
tutor: see p. 298) as one of the few English theologians who had written
(in 1853) on subjects relating to the ‘Orthodox’ or ‘Eastern-Catholic’
Communion.
60. 9. The Grotesque etc. Wordsworth, Tennyson and Browning’, or Pure, Ornate,
and Grotesque Art in English Poetry, by W. B. [Walter Bagehot], in the
National Review, Nov. 1864. Reprinted in vol. ii of Bagehot’s Literary
Studies, 1879.
60. 10. Lavington church: St Mary Magdalen’s, West Lavington, a small and
picturesque hamlet a mile SE. of Midhurst. Built in 1849 and consecrated
27 Nov. 1850, when Samuel Wilberforce preached. The Ecclesiologist
praised Butterfield’s design as a whole, but made several reservations. ‘The
style is very late First-Pointed, and of almost too severe a character. . . .
Throughout the detail is good, but we fancy we observe a tendency to
prefer stiff and quaint forms which show some originality, to more hack-
neyed architectural expressions In this case we have an interesting and
excellent design deprived of much of its beauty hy what we can consider
little better than crotchets of its author’ {Ecclesiologist, 1850). The vicarage,
which adjoins the churchyard, was also built under Butterfield’s direction.
There is a sketch in the church of Cobden’s funeral, with Gladstone
prominent among the mourners. For GMH*s visit to the church in July
1866, when he found it ‘immature and strange’, see p. 145 and n.
€o, II. Burges^ & Gambier Parry s Papers at the Bristol Congress. This was the
fourth of the annual perambulating Church Congresses, ‘the offspring of
an age of facilitated locomotion’ (A. J. B, Beresford Hope, The Pla£e and
NOTES TO EARLY DIARIES
335
Influence in the Church Movement of Church Congresses^ 1874), Clifton
1 1-13 Oct. 1864. They were voluntary and unofficial, open to clergy and
laymen in communion with the Church of England. Thomas Gambier
Parry, the decorative painter, and William Burges, the architect, gave the
opening papers on ‘Church Architecture and Decoration’ the second
morning. Gambier Parry was mainly concerned with reconciling archi-
tectural beauty and the needs of larger congregations; Burges’s paper,
much of it an attack on ‘prettiness* in churches masquerading as art
(encaustic tiles, bad metal- work, and too much marble and colour gener-
ally) was obviously aimed at Butterfield. Both papers are reported in full
in the Report of the Proceedings of the Church Congress held at Bristol^ published
by the Committee, Bristol, 1865.
William Burges (1827-81), an enthusiastic medievalist, had in 1856 won
an international competition for designs for Lille Cathedral. In 1862 he
was the architect of Cork Cathedral; and his English work includes the
Speech Room at Harrow, decorations to Salisbury chapter-house, and
the restoration of Worcester College Chapel. He had considerable anti-
quarian knowledge, and published a volume of architectural drawings.
GMH saw an exhibition of his furniture and glass in 1868 (see p. 166).
Thomas Gambier Parry (1816-88) had recently finished his frescoes at
Ely, which Hopkins comments on later (see pp. 188 and 399). He also did
frescoes for St Andrew’s Chapel in Gloucester Cathedral, and for the roof of
the nave, Tewkesbury Abbey — all gratuitously. Became the leading English
authority on decorative painting and published The Ministry of Fine Art
(1B87). He was the inventor of the ‘spirit-fresco’ process.
60. 12. John Wilson (1785-1854), ‘Christopher North* of Blackwood’s,
migrated from Glasgow University to Magdalen and won the Newdigate
in 180G with a poem on ‘The Study of Greek and Roman Architecture*.
Chief poetical works: The Isle of Palms, 1812; The City of he Plague, 1816.
His poems fill only one of the 12 vols of his Collected Works (published
1855-^)-
60. 13. Milman, Henry Hart (1791-1868). For Dean Milman’s poetry as
‘Olympian’, see p. 38 and LL, iii. 220. Gf. p. 112.
60. 14. Bowles, William Lisle (1762-1850), chiefly remembered now for the
ecstatic praise his Fourteen Sonnets, written chiefly on Picturesque Spots during a
tour (1789) evoked from the young Coleridge, and for the controversy with
Byron and Campbell that followed his 10 vol. edn of Pope (1806). During
a long life as a country clergyman in Wiltshire he published a considerable
amount of verse : his collected Poetical Works were edited, with a memoir,
By G. Gilfillan, 1855.
15* A, S. Mackworth Dolben. For main note on Dolben see p. 325. His
middle names, which he never used, were Augustus Stewart.
60. 16. Pritchard (similarly mis-spelt by Bridges in his Memoir of Dolben and
corrected in corrigenda to edn of 1915): Revd Constantine Estlin Prichard
{182^69), 3rd son of James Cowles Prichard, MA, FRS, the distinguished
physician and ethnologist of Bristol and author of Researches into the Physical
History of Mankind, Fellow of Balliol 1842-54. Rector of South Luffenham,
336
NOTES TO EARLY DIARIES
Lines., where he took private pupils 1854 to his death. Dolben was with
him on this occasion from Feb. to July or Aug. 1865, and had a great re-
spect and affection for him. Bridges regarded it as ‘a disaster’ when illness
compelled Prichard temporarily to discontinue his teaching. For further
impressions of him, see RB’s Memoir in The Poems of Digby Mackworth
Dolben^ igii.
60. 1 7. Where art thou friend- For suggestion that this sonnet was addressed to
Dolben, see pp. 325-6.
61. I. Where is it? . . This entry comes between the two halves of the sonnet
given above it. ;
61 • 2. Shrubs of the Ancients. Lectures III and IV of four lectures given bdbre
the University in the Easter Term, 1865, by Charles Daubeny, MD, F^S,
Professor of Botany and Rural Economy, Oxford. Published the same yfear
as Essay on the Trees and Shrubs of the Ancients. A comparison of the notes
which follow and the printed text show that GMH paid considerable
attention to these two lectures. C. G. B. Daubeny (1795-1867), succes-
sively Professor of Chemistry, Botany, and Rural Economy (he held all
three Chairs together from 1840 to 1855), was one of the first members of
the British Association and its President 1886. His principal work was A
Description of Active and Extinct Volcanoes^ first published in 1826. From 1834
he resided at the Oxford Botanic Garden.
61 • 3. oXdaia (Diosc.): Dioscorides, De Materia Medica, iii, cap. cliii (cd.
Kiihn, 1829, i. 492).
61 • 4. ainraXados {Diosc.): Dioscorides, i, cap. xix (Kiihn, i. 35).
61. 5. A(jjTo<l>ayoL: the lotos-eaters of Odyssey , bk. ix; and of Tennyson’s
poem.
62. 1. aayLijjvx' crdfu/tvxoVf the foreign (Persian or Egyptian) marjoram
{Diosc., iii. 47) .
62. 2. Secretive moats . . . cf, Marlowe, Faustus: ‘. . . then swords and knives, /
Poison, guns, halters, and envenom’d steel . . .’ (Evn. cd. 1 36) and Othello^
III. iii. 389 f. Tf there be cords, or knives, / Poison, or hre, or suffocating
streams, / I’ll not endure it,’ It was probably this that suggested the list
in relation to jealousy.
d2. 3. Walk . . . Islip comes in the middle of the spiritual note for 18 May,
bracketed and not crossed out.
62. 4. Mrs. Edward Hopkins. Frances Ann, younger daughter of Rear-
Admiral Beechey, and sister of Aunt Kate (sec~p. 332), married Edward
Martin Hopkins as his second wife (his first wife, Ann Ogden, a Canadian,
having died of cholera in 1854) in 1858. By heredity or environment,
without much formal training, she became a very competent painter. She
is now valued in Canada and the Northern states of the USA as a docu-
mentary painter of the ‘voyageurs’, the canoe-men in the fur-trade or on
the fur-trade routes. Four oils by her hang in the Archives Hall at Ottawa,
presented to the Government by the daughter of Lord Wolseley, which
show in great detail episodes in the so-called ‘Red River Expedition’ ot
NOTES TO EARLY DIARIES
337
1870 from Lake Superior to Fort Garry (now Winnipeg). She was the
only woman to accompany the expedition, and the pictures are thought to
include portraits of herself and of her husband, heavily bearded, in a large
black hat and smoking a big pipe : they are both calmly overdressed among
all the perils of canoeing. There are also in the Public Archives of Canada
some sketches of canoeing round about Montreal drawn by her in 1866.
GMH saw a certain amount of Aunt Frances in London in 1865, and as a
Novice in 1869 heard of a Ball which she and Uncle Edward had given in
Montreal (LL, iii. 108: the note should read ‘Edward Hopkins’, not
‘Smith’) ; he does not seem to have taken to her as he did to her sister,
Edward Hopkins finally left the service of the Hudson’s Bay Co. in 1870
and his wife thereafter painted busily and exhibited a good deal in the
Royal Academy. She died in London 1920.
See ‘Voyageurs’ Artist’, an article, with many mistakes of family detail,
by Grace Lee Nute, in the Beaver (Journal of the HBC), June 1947, with
reproductions.
63. I. MicheWs poem is.: Dantis exsilium, the Latin Prize Poem for 1863, by
Richard Brooke Michell of Balliol: published by T. and G. Shrimpton,
Oxford, 1865. Shrimpton ’s published the Latin Prize Poems for many years
as shilling pamphlets.
63. 2. Coles, Vincent Stuckey Stratton (1845-1929; see DNB), was one of
GMH’s closest friends at Balliol. Only son of Revd James Stratton Coles,
Rector of Shepton Beauchamp, Somerset. Friend of Bridges and Dolben
at Eton, and recognized leader of the ‘Puseyites’ ; ‘prominent’, wrote RB,
‘for his precocious theological bent and devotion to the cause\ Exh. Balliol
1864; 3rd Mods 1866; 3rd Greats 1868. Secretary of the Hexameron 1867
(sec p. 328). Became intimate friend of Liddon, to whom William Bright
wrote 19 June 1868 (after Coles’s 3rd in Greats had been announced):
‘Coles’s failure threw us into low spirits all Wednesday. It is really very
saddening. . . . Of course one knows the effect it will have on the interests
of the cause, in Balliol at any rate’ (Liddon Papers) . Resigned his exhibi-
tion 1867, from scruples that he had not worked hard enough. Cuddesdon
1868-9, under Edward King. Ordained 1869. Curate, Wantage 1869-72.
Succeeded his father as Rector of Shepton Beauchamp 1872-84. Returned
to Oxford 1884 as resident Librarian, Pusey House; Chaplain 1890-1909;
Principal 1897-1909. Warden, Community of Epiphany, Truro 1910-20.
From 1913 he was also Diocesan Chaplain to Charles Gore, Bp of Oxford,
and Hon. Canon of Christ Church. He published Lenten and Advent Medi-
tations ( 1 899) ; Good Friday Addresses at St Paulas Cathedral ; Lectures on Pastoral
Work in Country Districts (1906). He was one of the leading priests of the
Catholic Revival in England, and is remembered especially for his genius
for friendship and his pastoral work among young men. ‘Coles’s humility
deceived many into taking him at his own valuation ; actually his spiritual
power influenced not Oxford only but penetrated the whole Anglican
Communion’ (S. L. Ollard in DNB). See V. S. S. Coles: Letters, Papers,
Addresses, Hymns and Verses, With a Memoir, edited by J. F. Briscoe, 1930.
His and Hopkins’s friendship died away after Hopkins’s conversion; but
B 0C28
Z
NOTES TO EARLY DIARIES
338
they met again in Oxford in August 1879, when GMH wrote to Bridges:
‘By the by I have seen a Westcountryman — V. S. S. Coles — for the first
time since I went down. I am truly fond of him and wish . . . except these
bonds’ (LL, i. 88).
64. I . i2. GameCs Nix, given by Hopkins in full on p. 1 1 1 . The jVwf, by Richard
Garnett, was first published in Primula. A Book of Lyrics [Anon.], 1858.
GMH read it in The Children's Garland from the Best PoetSi selected
and arranged by Coventry Patmore, . . . 1862, p. 196, where it is printed
with slight variations of text.
66, I. The Dugmores: the family of William Dugmore, QC, of Upper
Heath, Hampstead. The fourth son, Horace Radclyffe Dugmore (1^5-
1902), was at Highgate for GMH’s last term Jan.-Apr. 1863. Christ
Church Oct. 1865. Member of BHT. BA 1869. Later lived at Parkstorip,
Dorset; JP. Accidentally killed on 28 May 1902 when a spectator at the
Naval and Military Tournament. For his elder brother, Ernest, b. 1843,
see LL, iii. 79, 86. Wadham, Nov. 1862. BA 1867. Vicar of Parkstone
1872. Author of several religious books.
70, I. Edward the Confessor . . .: F. G. Lee’s sermon is No. XVII of Twenty-
one Sermons on the Re-union of Christendom. Second Series. By Members of the
Roman Catholic, Oriental, and Anglican Communions, London, 1865.
They were printed for ‘certain Members of the Association for the Pro-
motion of the Unity of Christendom’, of which Lee was Secretary. The
prophecy quoted here is given in a note to a review of the Sermons in the
Union Review (the organ of the ill-fated APUC), vol. 3, p. 529, It had
appeared twice the previous year in the Union Review, headed on the first
occasion ‘with regard to the present Catholic Revival in the Church of
England’. For the remarkable career of F. G. Lee (1832-1902) and the
history of the APUC, see H. R. T. Brandreth, Dr. Lee of Lambeth, London,
1951-
71. I. the fact of Provost Fortescue {Oct. 16 and 18, 1865). This refers to Edward
Bowles Knottesford Fortescue (1816-77), ^ noted High Churchman and
ritualist. Dean since 1851 (Provost, 1853) of St Ninian’s Cathedral, Perth.
Although the exact reference remains untraced, two different explanations
have recently been put forward as to why Hopkins should have cited
him as an argument for staying in the Anglican Church. ( i ) W. H, Pearson,
‘G. M. Hopkins and Provost Fortescue’ (Notes Queries, 29 Sept. i95i)>
followed by F. H. Amphlett Micklewright (Notes df Queries, 12 Apr.
and 16 Aug. 1952), suggest that GMH is referring to Fortescue’s position
as Provost in 1865. His revival of ceremonial in the Cathedral services had
led to open warfare with hb Bp, Charles Wordsworth, for the past 12
years; but despite this and his known ‘Romanising’ tendencies, he had
remained within the Church of England. Fortescue was well known as a
preacher; and the two dates mentioned may refer to sermons, justifying
his position. (2) J. H. Crehan, ‘More Light on Gerard Hopkins’ (the Month,
Oct. 1953) thinks that Hopkins is alluding to the Vatican’s condemnation
of the Association for the Promotion of the Unity of Christendom, of which
NOTES TO EARLY DIARIES
339
Fortescue was President. The difficulty about this theory is that the
Holy Office’s rejection of the APUC’s appeal, which, as Fr Crehan says,
certainly turned Anglican feeling against Rome, was not issued till 8 Nov.
Nor, apart from being one of the Churchmen who signed the letter, does
Fortescue seem to have been publicly implicated in the controversy.
The first suggestion, that GMH was referring to two specific sermons,
receives support from a note in William Bright’s fragmentary MS Journal
for 9 Dec. 1865 (Liddon Papers) : ‘He [Frank Slater] thinks the catastrophe
of Nihill’s inhibition was mainly caused by the extravagant preaching of
f’ortescue . . .
Fortescue became a Roman Catholic in 1871 ; and, as a layman, founded
and became Master of the Catholic Granunar School, Eden Grove,
Holloway.
71. 2. Peyrat: ‘Les r^formateurs de la France ct de I’ltalie au 12® siMe*,
par Napoleon Peyrat, Paris, i86o.
71. 3. Nov, 6, On this day . . . Glory to God comes in the middle of the spiritual
note for this day, bracketed and not crossed out. See Preface, p. xx.
71.4. Ernest Geldart {1848-1929), younger brother of E. M. Geldart.
GMH saw something of him when staying with the Geldarts near Man-
chester July 1865. Educated Owen’s College; Victoria University,
Manchester; King’s College, London. Pupil of Alfred Waterhouse 1864.
Decided on ordination instead of architecture, and held curacies 1873-80.
1 ravelling chaplain to Bishop of Argyll 1880. Rector of Little Braxted,
Essex 1881-1901. Resigned owing to ill-health, and practised as architect.
Published new edn of The Art of Garnishing Churches . . ., 1882; and A
Manual of Church Decoration and Symbolism^ Mow brays, 1899, illustrated by
himself (in Introduction refers to his 35 years’ work in this field), besides
religious pamphlets and plain-song service books.
71. 5. Leading topics of Dr, Pusey's recent work reviewed .... Oakeley’s review
was one of several articles and letters written by Roman Catholics, mostly
converts, in response to Pusey’s ‘Eirenicon’, The church of England a portion
of ChrisVs one holy Catholic Church, and a means of restoring visible unity, Oxford,
1865. A published letter from Newman led Pusey, still hopeful of corporate
re-union, to write Parts 2 and 3 of ‘Eirenicon’ in reply, in 1869 and 1870,
Fred. Oakley: Frederick Oakeley (1802-80), Fellow of Balliol 1827-45,
tractarian, and incumbent of Margaret Chapel (the predecessor of All
Saints’, Margaret Street) 1839-45. Became a Roman Catholic 1845: priest
1848, and canon of the Westminster diocese from 1852 to his death. He
published many theological and liturgical works before and after his
conversion, as well as numerous articles.
6 . Katie: Kate Hopkins (7 Mar. 1856-1933), GMH’s second sister. He
described her to Baillie in 1877 as ‘a sort of humourist’ {LL, iii. 240), and
was clearly on very affectionate terms with her. Two of his letters to her
survive, the second in an assumed Irish dialect {LL, iii. 114 and 164);
^^id he mentions her many times in letters to his mother. She had a marked
gift for drawing; and many of her delicate sketches of trees and flowers
340
NOTES TO EARLY DIARIES
have clear affinities with GMH’s. In 1917 and 1918, when her mother’s
health was failing, she dealt with many of the details concerning the pub-
lication of her brother’s poems about which Bridges consulted the Hopkins
family. She did not marry; and, on her mother’s death, lived on at The
Garth, Haslemere, with her brother Lionel and younger sister Grace.
72. I. Grace Hopkins (1857-1945), GMH’s youngest sister, specialized in
music in her later education; by 1874 had ‘become musical beyond the
common’ (LL, i. 29) ; in 1873 she was to ‘set’ the second part of a Litany
(untraced) GMH had made (LL, iii. 122); in 1875 she had composed a
sonata (LL,iii. 134). In 1880 she set accompaniments to GMH’s melodies for
RB’s two Spring Odes [LL, i. 103 and iii. 156) : among Bodl. MSS is ‘Spiring
Odes. No. I. Invitation to the Country. Words by Robert Bridges. Miisic
by G. M. Hopkins’, apparently in Grace Hopkins’s hand. No music ito
No. 2, ‘Reply’, has come to light. In Fam. Papers are three drafts, dat^d
Aug. 1881, of her setting of RB’s poem ‘Sometimes when my lady sits by
me’ (see LL, i. 144), and a ‘jellied’ copy of a transcription by GMH of one Of
these, though he had no part in its composition. In 1881 she set accompani-
ment to GMH’s melody for Dixon’s ‘Sky that rollest ever’, of which two
drafts and a more finished version are in Bodl. MSS. Hymn-tunes by Grace
were sent to GMH at Liverpool in 1 88 1 {LL, i, 264 and iii. 1 59) , but are un-
traced. A carol ‘Sing! Baby, sing’. Words and Music by Grace Hopkins,
was published in Goodwilly x. 282 (Dec. 1903).
Grace Hopkins was engaged to Henry Weber, son of a doctor at Sens-
burg in E. Prussia, whom she met at Montreux, summer 1882; he died the
following year (LL, i . 1 84) ; she remained devoted to his memory, unmarried,
in long friendship with his family. Like her sister Kate, she continued a
devout moderate High Anglican and owned a copy of R. F. Littledale’s
Plain Reasons against joining the Church of Rome, After their mother’s death the
sisters lived on with their brother Lionel at The Garth, Haslemere.
72. 2. January 23, 1866, The notes for confession end here.
72. 3. Wharton, Edward Ross (1844-96), 2nd son of Henry James Wharton,
of Rhyl, Flints. Charterhouse, Sch. Trinity, Oxford; ist Mods 1863;
1st Greats 1867; Ireland Sch. 1865, and prox, acc, both Hertford and
Craven Schs. Fellow, Jesus, Oxford 1868-71; schoolmaster; returned to
Jesus as Fellow 1882. Published various works on Classical philology.
GMH and his family apparently knew him before he went up to Oxford
(LI, iii. 83-84).
73. I. i86g . . . when? Not far out, since Louis Ny)oleon gave himself up to
the Prussians in Sept. 1870, and came to England as an exile the following
year.
notes to ^ON the origin of BEAUrr AND
UNDERGRADUATE ESSAYS
ON THE SIGNS OF HEALTH AND DECAY IN THE ARTS
77. I. Ipsambul (Abu Simbel), in lower Nubia, the site of the rock-temples
of Rameses II, discovered by Burckhardt in 1812. GMH’s descriptions best
fit the colossi of the King, Queen and gods inside the hall of the Great
Temple, and the vivid pictures of Rameses’ actions in the Kadesh cam-
paign which cover one wall. He may have seen photographs and wood-cuts
of them in Egypt, Nubia and Ethiopia (1862), by Joseph Bonomi (whom he
met nearly ten years later with his nephew, Fr Goldie : see p. 428) : a note
on pp. 201-2 discusses the proportions of the colossi, and two illustrations
(after Rosellini’s) show the King (i) about to behead his enemies and
(ii) slaying a man much larger than the rest.
THE ORIGIN OF OUR MORAL IDEAS
80. 1. Pater, Walter Horatio (1839-94) had been Fellow of Brasenose since
1864. For his early teaching sec T. Humphry Ward, ‘Brasenose, 1864-
1872’, Brasenose College Quater centenary Monographs, 1909, xiv. 2, 74-75:
T still possess notes of those early lectures — their subject nominally the
History of Philosophy — and some of my own undergraduate essays, with
Pater’s brief but invaluable comments. The novelty of the lectures was that
they rarely mentioned any philosopher’s name. They presupposed, I fear,
much more knowledge than any of the class possessed . . . one man who
had easily gained his First in Moderations resigned Greats work on the
spot. Not that they were difficult, still less dry; but the easy way in which
the teacher moved amid his material was a little confusing to slow-moving
minds. , . . His ideas, his view of life, were fresh and original, as all the
world recognised a few years later; and his criticism of style, though ad-
ministered with the lightest possible touch, was convincing and final.
Vulgarity of expression, over-emphasis, exaggeration, could not stand up
for a moment before his correcting pencil ; they shrivelled up at a word,
and a word was all he gave them. Perhaps he seemed to undervalue
learning as such, but no man demanded more clear and accurate thinking,
or a more exact expression of it in words.’ It is doubtful whether Hopkins,
as a Balliol man, would have attended the lectures; but the rest would
certainly apply also to him.
® 3 * I* ioTi yap . . . ap^ijs {^wickedness . . » principle ') ; Arist. Eth. Nic, vi. v. 6.
POETIC DICTION
I- Wordsworth. Preface to the second edition of Lyrical Ballads, 1800:
And it would be a most easy task to prove . . ., that not only the language
of a large portion of every good poem, even of the most elevated character,
niust necessarily, except with reference to the metre, in no respect differ
NOTES TO ^ON THE ORIGIN OF BEAUTV’
from that of good prose, but likewise that some of the most interesting parts
of the best poems will be found to be strictly the language of prose when
prose is well written.’
84. 2. Coleridge, This seems to be a mistake for the definition given in
Table Talk, 12 July 1827: T wish our clever young poets would remember
my homely definitions of prose and poetry; that is, prose = words in their
best order; — poetry =- the best words in the best order.’
85.1, ‘iS'o I am as the rich . . .’. Shakespeare, Sonnet LII. 1-2.
ON THE ORIGIN OF BEAUTY
i
91. I. Frescos at the Union, A fictional adaptation of earlier history.
In 1857 the new debating-hall (now the library) of the Union had jiist
been finished by the architect Woodward, and was decorated with ‘frescos’
of Arthurian subjects by D. G. Rossetti, Morris, Burne-Jones, and others;
even R. W. Dixon ‘handled a brush’. They faded and flaked, but an
attempt has been made to restore them.
94. I. Hime leaves\ ‘lime’ is underlined in the MS by Hopkins, and written
above is ‘laurel (?)*.
95. I. ‘0 blithe New-comer!' Wordsworth, To the Cuckoo, st. i.
97, I . Dido's curse on Aeneas and his children, Aeneid, iv. 607-29.
98.1. 'Music when sweet voices die,' The text of the Oxford edn, p. 633, is:
Music, when soft voices die.
Vibrates in the memory —
Odours, when sweet violets sicken.
Live within the sense they quicken.
Rose leaves, when the rose is dead,
Are heaped for the belov^rd’s bed;
And so thy thoughts, when thou art gone.
Love itself shall slumber on.
103. I. the frontispiece to Miss Rossetti's Goblin Market, Through the folds and
falling of the girl’s dress the dots are not consistently *.* ; sometimes
105. I. Denham's couplet. Cooper's Hill, 11 . 191-2.
105. 2. facies non omnibus una . . .’ Ovid, Metamoiphoses, ii. 13.
107. I. {or as some people , . . verse). These words are bracketed in apparently
the same pencil as ‘read Hanbury throughout’. See Preface, p. xxiii.
no. I. Smallfield, Frederick (sec p. 359) exhibited in the 1864 Summer
Exhibition of the Society of Painters in Water-Colours an otherwise un-
titled picture. No. 309, for which were quoted in the Catalogue the whole
eight lines of Shelley (not the first four only, as in the Dialogue’s imagined
case (see p. 98), the first line being correctly quoted ‘Music, when soft
voices die’.
AND UNDERGRADUATE ESSAYS
343
111. I. The Nix. See p. 338. Patmore’s text differs from that given by Hop-
kins in several places :
St. 2. 1 . I. The moon with . . .
1 . 2. The leaves, . . .
St. 4. 1 . 3. . . . the same,
1. 4. . . . golden hair!’
St. 5. 1 . 3. . . . quenched . . ,
For GMH’s continuation of The Nix, see p. 64.
1 12. I. Dean Milman^s poetry. Cf. p. 38.
114. I. ^Unhouseled . . Hamlet, i. v. 77.
THE POSITION OF PLATO TO THE GREEK WORLD
1 15. I. Green, Thomas Hill (1836-82; seeDjVB) had been Fellow of Balliol
since i860, senior dean 1866; tutor, on Riddell’s death, from October
1866. For impressions of him as a teacher see R. L. Nettleship’s Memoir,
Works of T. ti. Green, 1885-8, hi, p. Ixiv (reprinted separately 1906).
Leslie Stephen in DNB suggests he was shy with pupils at first; but
his character and earnestness soon gave him great influence. As White’s
Professor of Moral Philosophy (from 1878), his chief work was the exposi-
tion of Kant and Hegel and the criticism of Hume. On his death Hopkins
wrote to Baillie: ‘I always liked and admired poor Green. He seemed to
me upright in mind and life. I wish I had made more of the opportunities
I had of seeing him in my 10 months at Oxford, . . . .’ (6 May 1882 : LL,
iii 2^9). For correspondence between Green and Henry Scott Holland on
CMH’s becoming a Jesuit, see Stephen Paget, Henry Scott Holland, 1921,
pp. 29 ff.
the probable FUTURE OF METAPHYSICS
ii8. I. TpLaKTTjp: ‘conqueror.’
the possibility of separating rjOiKTi from iroXinKJ] imaTrjpLT]
122. I. rjdLKrjfrom ttoXvtikti iTnarTrjpLrj: ‘ethics from political science.’
122. 2. Williams, Robert (1843-86), eldest son of William White Williams
of Oxford. Jnr Student, Christ Church 1860-4. Mods and 2nd Maths
Mods 1862; 1st Greats 1864. Fellow of Merton 1 866-75* ®^rr^ster (Lincoln’s
Inn) 1872; practised in Temple. His sister Frances married Francis de
Paravicini (see p. 301).
I • Vpos* TopLwvTL TrTjpLOLTi (Soph. Ajox, *. ‘for a disease that needs
the knife’.
NOTES TO ^ PARMENIDES^
PARMENIDES
127. I. Hopkins’s quotations of Parmenides’ fragments in these notes are
from Ritter and Preller, Historia Philosopkiae Graecae, 2nd edn 1857.
127. 2. 'Being' as translation of to iov. Cf. Burnet, Early Greek Philosophy
(1930), p. 178. ‘Parmenides does not say a word about “Being” anywhere.
... We must not render to iov by “Being”, das Sein or I'itre. It is “What ^s”,
das Seiende, ce gui est. As (to) €ivai it does not occur, and hardly could occur
at this date.’ ‘Being’ was the accepted translation in Hopkins’s time.
127. 3. Tj fih [dSoj Stjijmos] . . . ‘Come now, I will tell thee — and do thbu
hearken to my saying and carry it away— the only two ways of search that
can be thought of. The first, namely, that It w, and that it is impossible for
it not to be, is the way of belief, for truth is its companion. The other,
namely, that It is not^ and that it must needs not be, —that, I tell thee, is a
path that none can learn of at all. For thou canst not know what is not—
that is impossible — nor utter it; for it is the same thing that can be thought
and that can be.’ Burnet, p. 173.
128. I. 'Look at ity though absent . . .’ This is a translation of the fragment
(ap. Clement of Alexandria, Strom, v. 552 d) given by R. & P. (1857 edn,
p. 107) thus;
A€V(to€ 8’ o^ws dneovra vooj napeovra jSejSatW*
ov yap aTroTpirj^T) to iov rod iovro^ €;(ej0at,
oJt€ (TKiSvdpLevov irdvTrj ttclvtws Kara Koopiov
ovT€ owLordpievov,
arreovTa, Trapedvra should be taken as accusatives neuter plural ‘things far
off’ and ‘things near by’.
128. 2. ouSe Ti ITT] /xdAAov . . . R. & P. here give rfj in the text. Cf. rij /xdAAov
rfj 8’ IjocTov below.
128. 3. the reading . . . corrupt. Simplicius gives a pig which is metrically
impossible and can be excluded on that ground alone.
129. I. u )5 yap iKaaros . . . This quotation is actually made in Aristotle
Met. r 5 and given by R. & P. in its context there. Theophrastus quotes it
from Aristotle and reads Kpdais for Kpdenv.
130. I. 'inlaw^ apparently the word of the MS. The writing is rather
cramped.
NOTES TO JOURNAL
133. I. New Inn Hall Street, For the Hall, see p. 25: in 1866 the street did
not continue northwards to George Street but turned at right-angles in its
course, along what is now St Michael’s Street. City and Bodleian records
have not revealed a key to the numbering. In 1834 No. 25 was next-door
to the grounds of the Union (C. A. E. Moberly, Duke Domum, p. 55) ; it
seems possible that No. 18 was on the site of the modern block which runs
round the right angle. In Oct. 1866 Hopkins lodged at No. 23 {LL, iii. 95),
which might possibly have been one of the surviving old houses in St
Michael’s Street between the Union grounds and the corner.
133. 2. '‘Bleak-faced Neolog)/, in cap and gown" is the fifth line of the sonnet ‘A
Dream’ in Sonnets by the Revd Charles Turner (1864), p. 87. Over twenty
of the last sonnets in this volume are more or less direct attacks on theo-
logical ‘Neology’ in one or other of its many forms. Writing to Baillie on
5 Jan. 1865 GMH asked: ‘Have you read Turner’s sonnets? They are the
things to read now.’ The volume was dedicated ‘To Alfred Tennyson ... by
his affectionate Brother Charles Turner’.
133. 3. Fra Dolcinoy the ‘arch-heretic of Novara’, was leader of the Order of
the Apostles, a dissenting Franciscan sect of the end of the 13th century.
Clement V launched a ermade vowing their utter extermination in June
1305. Addis or Hopkins may have read the terrible history of their two
years’ sufferings in the mountains above Vercelli, their final defeat and
the burning of Dolcino after frightful tortures, in the popular and anti-
Papal Historical Memoir of Frd Dolcino and His Times^ by L. Mariotti (A.
Gallcnga), Longmans, 1853. Mahomet gives a warning message to Dolcino
in the Inferno^ xxviii. 58-64.
133.4. Thomas (1844-1925). Rugby; Balliol 1863; ist Mods 1865
and Greats 1867. University Cricket XI 1864-7; also ‘excelled at other
games’. On Stock Exchange. Returned to Ojdbrd 1870. Lecturer, Balliol
and Corpus, in philosophy and ancient history. Tutor of Corpus 1876.
Waynfletc Professor of Philosophy and Fellow of Magdalen 1889. President
of Corpus 1904. Musician; amateur of architecture; writer on cricket;
established University Cricket Ground in the Parks. Publications included
Realism in Morals (1877); Physical Realism (1888); article on Jowett in
Pitman" s Encyclopedia of Education (1921); two volumes of songs (DNB),
G. N. Luxmoore recorded meeting GMH and tase after breakfast once
at Balliol having ‘a long and interesting discussion on high and low Church-
ism’ {LL, iii. 396).
* 33 * 5* Rnt . , . dog, Cf. ‘University Life’, Cornhilly xi. 228 (1865) : ‘In Christ
Church meadows, close to the barges, there arc to be found in the after-
noon two or three persons of highly unprepossessing appearance, with
small cages and some sharp-looking terriers : these cages contain rats, and
<^n a moderate payment, a rat-hunt at once lakes place.’ In the Oxford
Spectator (12 May 1868) the carvings in the imagined cloisters of Keble
346 NOTES TO JOURNAL
College were to include ‘a cage full of rats surrounded by innumerable
bull-terriers’. Cf. The Adventures of Mr, Verdant Green^ chap, ix, with illus-
tration.
133* 6. cads. The Oxford Spectator (3 Mar. 1868), dealing with some current
University slang, has: "Cad.— A term of reproach. It is of comparatively
recent origin, and was originally applied to Radicals by their political
opponents, being derived from the Greek xaSoj, a ballot-box.’
133* 7. Violante / In the pantry ... See Oxford Diet, of Nursery Rhymes, cd.
Iona and Peter Opie, 1951, p. 198. The version they print begins ‘Hani^ah
Bantry . . .’; and their note runs: ‘After much preluding Frederick sibgs
this in Maria Edgeworth’s story The Mimic (1796). His version starred
“Violante, in the pantry”; JOH [Flalliwell, The Nursery Rhymevof
England, 1846] gives “Hannah Bantry”. . . .’ :
133. 8. Maurice de Guirin^s Remains: the ist edn of his Journal, in two parts,
Paris, 1861, was entitled Reliquiae. GMH bought the Journal after reading
Arnold’s essay on him in Essays in Criticism: ‘admired it, but for some
reason or other never got far in it’ (LL, ii. 16).
*33* 9- motion in defence of the Fenians .... No records survive of the Balliol
Debating Society of this date; but the following year J. L. Strachan-
Davidson supported a motion at the Union ‘that the mass of Fenians, even
though misguided, are patriotic men, and that the disgrace of the late
rebellion lies with England, not with Ireland’ (J. W. Mackail’s Memoir
of Strachan-Davidson, p. 21.). Although 20 years later GMH protested to
Baillie from Dublin that he was a Home Ruler {LL, iii. 274), it was from
despair of any other solution to the Irish problem; there is in fact plenty of
evidence that he hated extreme Irish Nationalism as much as he hated
Gladstone. The Fenians were extremely active in both Ireland and America
during this spring: panic at continued arms-collecting in Ireland had led
to the suspension of the Habeas Corpus Act in February; and at the end of
May a Fenian revolutionary ‘army’ of 800 invaded Canada over the
American frontier, to be routed by a Canadian battalion at Ridgeway.
133. 10. SS. Philips sand James* sM^ds built and consecrated in 1862 as a district
church in the parish of St Giles. It is some way out along the Woodstock
Road. Architect, G. E. Street (see p. 361). ‘At the time of its building . . .
this church was a test for taste — it was admired extremely by the sensitive
and roundly condemned by the obtuse. Some may think that it remains a
test for taste today’ (H, S. Goodhart-Rendel, English Architecture since the
Regency, 1953, p. 142, with illustration). The tower and spire were added
in 1864. First incumbent was the Revd James Black Gray; GMH’s friend,
E. W. Urquhart (see p. 323), was his curate 1864-6, It soon became a ‘well-
known temple of “gentlemen of the ritualistic persuasion” ’ (Goodhart-
Rendel, p. 140, quoting ist Lord Grimthorpe).
134, I, Shakespere's birthday ,,. the tercentenary. Hopkins is a year out.
Shakespeare’s tercentenary had been in 1864, two years before. Argument
about the day of his birth (for which there is no evidence beyond ms
baptism on 26 Apr.) continued through the year of the celebrations'
NOTES TO JOURNAL 347
Ilbcrt’s was a lonely gesture: neither University made any attempt to
emulate the National Shakespeare Committee’s extraordinary festivities at
Stratford or London. For the history of everything that went wrong with
these, including the total collapse of the London Committee, see the article,
A New Shakespeare Farce-Tragedy y Saturday Review, 9 Apr. 1864, p. 439.
134. 2. liberty [Sir] Courtenay Peregrine (1841-1924). Eldest of 6 sons of
Peregrine Ilbert, Rector of Thurlestone, Devon. Marlborough. Sch. (with
T. L. Papillon) Balliol i860, ist Mods 1862; ist Greats 1864. Hertford
Sch. 1861; Ireland Sch. 1862; Craven 1864; Eldon law Sch. 1867. Fellow
of Balliol 1864; Bursar 1871-4. Intimate friend and supporter of jowett
(who made him his literary executor) : from 1865 onwards ‘his vote turned
the scale in favour of the promotion of liberal measures in College meetings*
(Abbott and Campbell, Life and Letters of Benjamin Jowett, i. 376). Galled to
the Bar 1869, and made a distinguished career as a Parliamentary drafts-
man. Law member of Governor-General’s Council in India 1882, where he
was responsible under Lord Ripon for liberal legislation which aroused
much Conservative opposition. Parliamentary counsel to Treasury 1899.
Clerk of House of Commons 1902-21. Published The Government of India,
1898, as well as several works on law-making. He married the niece of
F. H. Bradley. GMH lived on the same staircase as Ilbert his first two
terms at Balliol and much admired him (LL, iii. 70-71), but has no further
references to him after 1866.
134. 3. Valuation of my old rooms is £4^, 3s These, the second set of College
rooms that GMH occupied, were in the Garden Quad : he had moved into
them from much cheaper rooms in Oct. 1863, after two terms {LL, iii. 82).
The valuation was for the furniture, which the College owned: it was
valued between each tenancy, and the occupant paid 5% of the value for
its use yearly, in addition to the cost of any depreciation. This system ap-
pears to have lasted till the 1914—18 War, after which an inclusive room
rent was charged. In May 1863 Hopkins had told his mother that between
£35 and £40 was ‘ordinary* for ‘second rooms* {LL, iii. 78).
135* 1- Bampton Lecture. Liddon had been invited to deliver the annual
‘Divinity Lecture Sermons’ (founded by John Bampton in 1751) at short
notice, in Nov. 1865, because the elected lecturer, Revd A. W. Haddon,
resigned through ill-health (Johnston, Life of Liddon, pp. 81-82). His
subject (chosen as early as Mar. 1864, against a possible candidature —
Bright’s Journal) was The Divinity of our Lord and Saviour Jesus Christ, The
course was intended as an assault on neology, and as a re-assertion of full
traditional dogma about the Incarnation. From the first lecture, 4 Mar.,
^St Mary’s was crowded ‘wherever even standing room could be found*.
This sixth lecture was on ‘Our Lord’s Divinity as taught by St James, St
Peter and St Paul’, the text being Gal. ii. 9. See also pp. 1 36, 1 38 and notes.
* 35 * Fr Lockhart, William (1820-92; see DNB), follower of Newman, and
the first of the Tractarians to secede to Rome Aug. 1843. Entered the
Rosminian Order of Charity, and wrote on the life and ideas of Rosmini.
ft was he who established St Ethcldreda’s, Ely Place, as the first medieval
t^hurch in London to revert to the Roman allegiance ; and he died as its priest.
348 NOTES TO JOURNAL
*35» 3- Godstow and Whiteham. Gf. . . that landscape the charm of Oxford,
green shouldering grey, which is already abridged and soured and perhaps
will soon be put out altogether, the Whytham and Godstow landscape
(as I take it to be) of “Love’s Consolation” and “Waiting”* (GMH to
Dixon, 27 Feb. 1879: LL, ii. 20).
135. 4. Nash, Thomas (1845-85), eldest son of William Nash, merchant, of
Stratford, Lancs. At school in Manchester. Balliol 1863-7 (Greaves Exh,).
1st Mods and 2nd Maths Mods 1865; 2nd Maths Finals 1866; ist Greats
1867. Barrister, Lincoln’s Inn 1872. GMH was sure his death, shortly
before Geldart’s, was also suicide (LL, hi. 254) .
135, 5. Coventry Patmore in hand. Perhaps The Angel in the House (2 vols revised,
1863 and 1866; and see LL, iii. 298-9) : but there is no real clue in GMlfl’s
letters either to Bridges or to Patmore himself as to when his enthusiasm
for Patmore’s poetry began or which poems he read first.
135. 6. Walked alone to Fyjield . . . : a Berkshire village 7 miles SW. of Oxford.
The ‘great elm’ is about half a mile the Oxford side of the village, just
beyond Tubney : remains of its huge stump, once 36 feet in circumference,
still stand. ‘The Fyfield elm’ of The Scholar Gipsy (and ‘the Fyfield tree’ of
Thyrsis) was in fact known locally as ‘the Tubney Tree’; and is so called in
a photograph of 1868. But there is no evidence that GMH read any of
Arnold’s poetry before Aug. 1873: see LL, iii. 58.
135- 7* Beddingfield church. This at first sight seems a balfiing entry; there is
no Beddingfield near Oxford. Probably it is a mistake for Bessels Leigh,
which GMH would have walked through on his way back. The small,
partly Norman parish church of St Lawrence has identical E. and W.
windows, with dog- toothed arches and curious dripstones. It is surrounded
by elms. The only Bedingfield Hopkins was at all likely to have heard of
was the Suffolk manor belonging to the Bedingfelds, a well-known Roman
Catholic family.
136. I . Children with while rods .... This ancient method of impressing the
parish’s boundaries on the children’s memory on Ascension Day is still
preserved by three Oxford parishes: St Michael’s at the North Gate, All
Saints, and St Mary the Virgin’s. The bounds of St Michael’s pass through
the old St Peter’s Rectory in New Inn Hall Street, where GMH then
lodged. (Information kindly supplied by Canon R. R. Martin, Vicar of
St Michael’s, Oxford.)
136. 2. Failure of Overend, Gurney, and Co. in the panic. The suspension of pay-
ments by Overend, Gurney — the greatest private bank in the City — bn the
afternoon of 10 May was the climax to a panic that had been mounting for
ten days. The Bankers' Magazine, June 1866, described it as ‘the most
important and serious stoppage ever announced in the City of London .
the firm, which had become a limited company the year before, failed for
over £5m. Behind the panic lay the wave of speculative company p^'
motion that followed the trade boom at the end of the American pvi
War; the story of Overend, Gurney’s involvement is told in W. C. T. s
History of the London Discount Market, London, 1 936, pp. 242-56. The Times
NOTES TO JOURNAL 349
of 1 1 May, ‘Black Friday’, said that the shock of the failure would be felt
‘in the remotest corners of the Kingdom*.
136. 3. Balliol often bumped now taken off. The Balliol boat began gth, was
bumped the first four nights, and ‘to avoid being bumped four more and
ending bottom of the river . . . was Taken Off!’ {Balliol Boat Club Journal,
1858/71). There is no other record of a boat thus going to the bottom of
Eights through default.
136. 4. 7th Bampton. The lecture was on ‘The Homoousion’, the text being
"J it. i. 9, and at the end discussed the question of doctrinal ‘development’
and the definition of the doctrine of the Immaculate Conception in
1854. It would be quite impossible to suggest which was the specially
beautiful sentence, for the extant MSS at Keble College do not give verbatim
either the spoken or the published version. William Bright (see p. 375)
helped much even with the phrasing of the published text.
136. 5. The Agra and Mastermans Bank, after a month’s vicissitudes on the
Stock Exchange, suspended payments late on Wednesday 6 June. Its
failure was the most serious of many that followed in the wake of the
Overend, Gurney panic (see above). Remarkable as the only one of the
London banks which closed to resuscitate itself. It reopened in the United
Kingdom Jan. 1867, and in India in March, as the Agra Bank. All creditors
were paid off, with 5% interest, by July i868. Grandpapa Smith therefore
would have recovered his deposits in full.
136. 6, Grandpapa. John Simm Smith (1792-1877), son of John Smith of
Upper Thames Street; medical student at school of Thomas’s and Guy’s,
contemporary with Keats {LL, i. 51). Qualified MRCS 1815; LSA 1817.
Asst to Dr Ranken in general practice at Eastbourne. Married Maria
Hodges (sec p. 313), and moved to 17 Trinity Square, Tower Hill c. 1820.
For a time had John Henry Hutchins MRCS as partner in a general
practice which fiourished among prosperous families still resident in the
City. Built ‘Grange Cottage’, Chigwell Row, on edge of Hainault Forest,
c. 1 830, as country retreat. Removed family there during cholera epidemic,
1832, which carried off his father and brother William (Smith Fam.
Papers). Water-colour portrait by T. George, 1827, shows a handsome,
solemn man with brown curled hair, thick trimmed whiskers, and long nose
turning down at tip (Fam. pictures). A portrait by Richard Lane (see
p. 420), commissioned by Mrs Thwaytes, 1840, was too like ‘a Jew clothes-
man’ to please the family. For his medical attendance on Mrs Thwaytes
and her extraordinary attachment and gifts to him, see pp. 369-70. This
remarkable relationship helps to explain Smith’s move to a very large
house and grounds at Croydon (see p. 362) in i847» and also GMH’s
calling him ‘an affectionate and generous father* {LL, iii. 147) ; but it does
not seem to have disturbed his professional career: he became FRCS 1856
and was a member of the Council of the National Institute. For GMH’s
belief that he had special tokens from heaven at his grandfather’s death,
see LL, iii. i4'7-.8. LCH wrote to his sister Kate, 4 Dec. 1877: ‘To us all
he was most kind, but to me especially Blunt House was a second home.
350
NOTES TO JOURNAL
and the memories of my Croydon life form a second strand in the course
of my childhood and boyhood.’
136. 7. Waterhouse is to do the new buildings of the college .... Allred Water-
house (1830-1905), one of the most successful ‘Gothic’ architects of the
period, began practising in Manchester and earned a considerable reputa-
tion with the Manchester Assize Courts 1859, followed by the new Town
Hall, opened 1877. He came near to winning competition for the new
Law Courts, London 1866. Designed the Natural History Museum, S.
Kensington 1868, and soon had a large practice in London and the
Universities: larger in Cambridge (Gonville and Caius, Trinity Hall, Jetus,
Pembroke, the Union) than in Oxford (Balliol, the debating hall of ’,^he
Union) . Bridges married his eldest daughter. \
He was asked to provide plans for rebuilding the 15th century S. ahd
E. ranges of the Front Quadrangle of Balliol in Apr. 1866: they were
formally accepted at a College Meeting on 1 1 and 1 2 Oct. (College Register).
Jowett took a keen interest in the scheme. To Thomas Woolner, the sculp-
tor and original member of the Pre-Raphaelite Brotherhood, he wrote : ‘I
think that we have made a good choice and am glad to hear that you
think so too. ... In choosing Mr. Waterhouse we hope to avoid eccentricity
and Unenglish styles and fancies. Simplicity and proportion such (not
colour) always seem to me the great merits of Architecture* (Bodl. MSS.
Engl, letters, e. 28, f. 112, undated). The new buildings, in Waterhouse’s
baronial Gothic, were ready for occupation by Oct. 1868 and have re-
mained substantially unaltered since. (For further details sec VCH Oxford-
shire, iii. 94.) Butterfield had rebuilt the College Chapel in 1856-7: Jowett
not surprisingly objected to its external colour scheme (now much con-
cealed by plaster) in banded red and white.
136. 8. Ernest Geldart is up on the business. See p. 339. Geldart was still a
pupil of Waterhouse.
136. 9. Mrs, and Miss Coles'. V. S. S. Coles’s mother and elder sister, Julia.
Mrs Coles was Eliza, daughter of Vincent Stuckey of Langport, Somerset,
banker and close connexion by marriage and business of the Bagehots.
To her enthusiasm for Keble’s Christian Tear Coles said he owed much of
his early religious fervour. His sister Julia lived on at Shepton Beauchamp
after her parents’ death, and looked after him in his later years.
137. I . Hall, Of the two then at Christ Church, GMH is more likely to have
known Edward Kirkpatrick Hall, regarded by Bright (undated letter to
Liddon) as one of ‘the Faithful*. Eldest son of Lorenzo Hall, of Burton-on-
Trent; b. 1844; Eton 1859; Ch, Ch, 1862-6; BA (not Hons). Despite
Bright’s hopes to Liddon of 26 May 1866, ‘He came up distinctly to take
H.O. and his devotion in Chapel and at H.C. and his interest in N.T.
lectures, are specially gratifying in a popular boating Etonian*, he was not
ordained, but became a barrister (Inner Temple 1870) and JP in Staffs.
137, 2. Dr, Pusey preached. This was the University Sermon given in St
Mary’s in the afternoon. Not in Falconer Madan’s bibliography (appx ^
to Liddon’s Life), nor marked as such in the MS sermons at Pusey House.
NOTES TO JOURNAL 351
137. 3. Nettleship, Richard Lewis (1846-92), youngest of the six remarkable
sons of H. J. Nettleship, Kettering solicitor (see DNB). Educated at
Uppingham under Thring, his correspondence with whom illuminates
Oxford life 1865-70 (G. R. Parkin, Life and Letters of Edward Thring). Sch.
Balliol 1864; Hertford Sch. 1866; Ireland 1867; Gaisford Greek Verse
Prize 1868; 2nd Greats and Fellow of Balliol 1869; later, Tutor in Philo-
sophy. Died of exposure on Mont Blanc 1892. Memorial Sermon by Jowett
in College Sermons (1895), p. 264. Nettlcship’s Philosophical Lectures and
Remains, ed. Bradley and Benson (1897), contains Memoir and portrait.
Was intimate undergraduate friend of Henry Scott Holland, with whom
he visited GMH in Jesuit Novitiate at Roehampton Dec. 1868 (Stephen
Paget, Henry Scott Holland, 1 92 1 , p. 29) . In 1 884 sent a testimonial supporting
GMH’s candidature for the Chair of Greek, University College, Dublin.
After GMH’s death he wrote to Mrs Hopkins : ‘He and I were great friends
when we were undergraduates at Balliol. Since that time we met but little.
This was more my fault than his . . .’ (Bodl. MSS.).
137. 4. Beautiful blackness . . . from behind. Cf. ‘Spelt from Sibyl’s Leaves’,
11. 9-10 {Poems, p, 105) :
Only the beak-leaved boughs dragonish | damask the tool-
smooth bleak light; black.
Ever so black on it.
37. 5. Stocks, John Eldward, 2nd son of Samuel Stocks of Leeds; b. 1843.
Ch. Ch. 1863; 3rd Greats 1867; Chaplain 1867-72. Vicar of Market
Harborough 1871-84; of St Saviour’s, Leicester 1884. Bright regarded him
as one of ‘the Faithful’ (to Liddon, 25 June 1867).
137. 6. Matthew Arnold lectured on the Celtic element in English poetry . . . Tliis
was the last of four lectures Arnold gave in Oxford 1865-6, as Professor of
Poetry. They were published in the Cornhillip. Mar., Apr., May, and July
1866; and the substance of them in On the Study of Celtic Literature, Smith,
Elder, 1867.
*37 • 7- Cuddesdon, 8 miles SE. of Oxford, had been founded by Bp Wilber-
force as an Anglican Theological College in 1854. Arcliitect, G. E. Street
(his first important commission). For its early troubles and secure growth
now under Edward King (Principal 1863-73), see Owen Chadwick, The
Founding of Cuddesdon, OUP, 1954.
*37- 8. Awdry, William (1842-1910), 3rd son of Sir John Wither Awdry,
Chief Justice of Bombay and later one of the University Commissioners.
^A/inchesier. Balliol. ist Mods 1862; ist Greats 1865; Ellerton Theological
Prize. President of Union. Rowed in Oxford VII 1 1863 and 1864. Ordained,
l ellow of Queen’s 1866. Second Master, Winchester 1868-73; Headmaster,
Hurstpierpoint 1873-9. Canon and Principal of Theological College,
Chichester 1879-86; Vicar of Amport, Hants. 1886-96; Suffragan Bp of
^Southampton 1895; Bp of South Tokyo 1898. He married Emily, daugh-
ter of George Mobcrly, Headmaster of Winchester and Bp of Salisbury,
or many details of his family and youth, see C. A. E. Moberly, Duke
kmum. George Moberly, His Family and Friends, 191 1.
352
NOTES TO JOURNAL
138 . I. the St, Giles^ gate. The forcing open is recorded in the College
Register, but there is no record of the culprits being found.
138 . 2. M'Farlane: W. A. C. Macfarlane. See p. 302.
138 . 3. Garrett, Alfred William (1844-1929). Eldest son of Alfred Garrett,
of Hobart, Tasmania, where he was at school. Balliol 1863-7; 3rd Mods
1865; 3rd Greats 1867. Member of the BHT. Joined the Catholic Church
shortly after hearing of GMH’s conversion, and was confirmed by Manning
at St Mary of the Angels, Bayswater 8 Oct. 1866. Indian Education
Service 1868-84; Inspector of Schools, Bengal 1878. Returned to Tas-
mania and joined Education Dept, Hobart 1884. He occurs frequently! in
Hopkins’s letters from 1 866, and stood as godfather at his confirmation lat
Bayswater 4 Nov. 1866 (he was not present, and George Lane Fox actid
as proxy). They were still corresponding in 1882 {LL, iii. 250). For a lettir
of GMH to him, see LL, iii. 55; and for his photograph, LL, iii. 20.
138 . 4. Fletcher, Miles Angus Archibald Douglas William Henry (1847-
72), son of George Charles Fletcher, who lived in Bengal. Educated
Edinburgh Academy. Matriculated Balliol 21 Apr. 1866, but went down
after an accident without a degree (see p. 219 and LL, iii. 56). Married,
and went out to USA. Frozen to death in a snowstorm, in Minnesota
(see pp. 218-19).
138 . 5. Bickersteth, Robert, b. 1847, eldest son of Robert Bickersteth, Bp of
Ripon. Friend of Dolben at Eton; Corpus Christi, Oxford 1865; 2nd Law
and History 1869; student of Inner Temple 1872. Became an Inspector of
Factories and, later, MP.
138 . 6. Simeon, Philip Barrington, b. 12 Dec. 1845, eldest son of Capt. Charles
Barrington Simeon of Hursley, nr Winchester; nephew of the Roman
Catholic Sir John Simeon, of the Isle of Wight, friend of Tennyson, W. G.
Ward, &c. The Hursley branch remained Anglican, and were well known
to Manley Hopkins, who had many dealings with them and with Keble
about the Honolulu Bishopric in 1861-2 and about the visit of Queen
Emma of the Sandwich Islands in 1865; there are extant photographs of
the Simeon house prepared for Queen Emma’s reception, with a Hawaiian
greeting above the door and the children outside. Philip was a Winches-
ter commoner 1857. Christ Church 1864; BA 1868. Deacon 1870;
Priest 1871. Curate, N. Moreton 1870-2; Diocesan Missioner, Lichfield
1873-7; St Augustine’s, Kilburn 1878-84 (see Bumpus, London Churches
ii. 343-7). Diocesan Missioner, Grahamstown, S. Africa 1884; Rural
Dean, Fort Beaufort 1886. Returned to England; Rector of Lathbury
1904-9, and of Longparish, Hants 1909; though thought to be a celibate
married a Miss Woodcock, known to her nieces as Aunt Grouse. His
brother, Algernon Barrington, was Warden of St Edward’s School, Oxford
1870-92; Rector of Bigbury 1893, and of Yattendon 1904. Of his sisters,
Emma Mary m. the Rt Revd Alfred Willis, who became 2nd Bp 0
Honolulu 1872; Edith entered the Sisterhood of All Saints’, Margaret
Street (see p. 361), made an excellent Nun, but died rather early; Winifre
entered the same Sisterhood, but was unsuccessful and left; Mabel Selma
353
NOTES TO JOURNAL
m. Rcvd H. A. Dalton (son of the Vicar of St Michael’s, Highgate during
GMH’s schooltime) who later was Headmaster of Felsted. A younger
brother, Hugh Barrington, became a London solicitor and father of the
editor’s informant. GMH knew the whole family.
138. 7. Pater talking two hours against Xtianity, Gf. Bright’s Journal, Mar. 1864,
p. 62 : ‘Bramley added that Pater, now of B.N.C., at his essay society in
Brooke’s hearing averred his unbelief in a future state and that Conington got
up to rebuke him.* This may possibly be the same incident referred to by
Liddon, writing about essay clubs to the Bp of Salisbury 17 Mar. 1864:
‘One Paper which obtained great notoriety at the beginning of this Term
was directed against the immortality of the soul. It was written by a junior
Fellow of a College* (Johnston, pp. 90-91). Some details might be mis-
reported and misremembered ; at least the closeness of date, combined with
the other common elements, is interesting.
138. 8. Russell, Herbert David (1844-67), 2nd son of David Russell, of
York. Entered Wadham Nov. 1862; 3rd Mods Easter 1864; 2nd Greats
Michaelmas 1866. Was an active and valued member of the High
Church group centred on Liddon and Bright. He went down from Oxford
for the last time, apparently in perfect health, on 26 June 1867 (Bright tp
Liddon, 25 June 1867). He died very suddenly, and Bright wrote to Liddon
14 Sept. 1867; *We have had a great loss, in the death of Herbert Russell,
from fever, at York last Sunday. And this happened soon after his father’s
objection to his taking orders had been given up* (Liddon Papers). For
GMH’s news of his death, see p. 158.
138. g. Eaglesim, Thomas Arnott (1840-94), eldest son of Robert Eaglesim
of Paisley, Scotland. Matriculated St Alban Hall 1863; Bible clerk, Wor-
cester College 1863-7; 2nd Mods 1865; 2nd Greats 1867. Ordained.
Curate of St Paul’s, Oxford. Convert to Rome 1877, became a priest
of the Oratory, Birmingham, where he took the name ‘Paul’ (see Henry
Tristram, Cardinal Newman and the Church of the Birmingham Oratory, a
History and a Guide, 1934, p. 69).
138. 10, rest of birds, Gf. ‘The Woodlark’ {Poems, p, 149), beginning 'Teevo
ckeevo cheevio chee\ dated 5 July 1876.
138* 1 1 • The last Bampton was the eighth, ‘Some Consequences of the Doc-
trine of our Lord’s Divinity*, with the text Rom. viii. 32. ‘It lasted one hour
and forty-one minutes. I omitted a large portion in the middle of it*
(Liddon’s Journal; Johnston, Life of Liddon, p. 84). Apart from a passage
on the sacraments in this last lecture, the course was much approved even
by evangelicals (Johnston, p. 85), ‘not only popular, but of real value for
the atmosphere of doubt then prevalent’ (E, A. Knox, Reminiscences of an
Octogenarian, p. 72). When published, by Rivingtons, the lectures reached
a 4th edn by 1869, and a 14th, revised, edn by Liddon’s death in 1890.
*38. 12. The Bp. of Brechin (Alexander Penrose Forbes: see pp. 333-4)
bad himself been curate at St Thomas’s, Oxford (where V. S. S, Coles
first remembered to have seen a chasuble worn) in 1845. In 1865-6 he was
nauch concerned in the preliminary meetings which led to the foundation
B 6628
A a
354 NOTES TO JOURNAL
of the Society of St John the Evangelist, the ‘Cowley Fathers’ (Cowley
Evangelist, Feb. 1915).
139 . I. Miss Lloyd, Catherine E., was a first cousin of GMH’s Aunt Kate
on her mother’s side. Of the daughters of Col. John Stapleton of Thorpe
Lee, Surrey, Charlotte married Rear-Admiral Beechey and Mary Harriet
married Revd Charles Lloyd, Regius Professor of Divinity, Oxford 1822
and Bp of Oxford 182 7-9. Lloyd’s teaching had been an important
influence on the original Tractarians in their youth (see DNB; R. W.
Church, Oxford Movement) . After Lloyd’s early death his widow, with a son
and four daughters, lived in Broad Street, Oxford, next to Kettel Hiall
(Tuckwell, Reminiscences, p. 135). This Miss Lloyd continued to live in
Oxford, at 96 Holywell, unmarried, and GMH saw her at a concert
Feb. 1879 ‘in a black bonnet and yellow ribbons’ (LL, iii. 153). She was\a
friend of Liddon and Bright, and gave Liddon some secretarial help with
his biography of Pusey, whose patron her father had been. She was a keen
sketcher (Liddon MSS).
139 . 2. Puller. This must be Christopher Cholmeley (1839-1902), 3rd son
of C. W. G. Puller, of Youngbury, Herts. Eton. Sch. BalHol 1858-63; 2nd
Mods 1859; BA 1863. Joined Lincoln’s Inn 1872, but left owing to ill
health. Career in Treasury. Retired as Asst Sec. 1901.
139 . 3. Pilkie and Pulkie may possibly have been nicknames for GMH’s two
sisters, Kate and Grace (see pp. 339-40) ; but no evidence in Fam. Papers.
139 . 4. the Agra broke: see p. 349. The full effects were felt on Thursday
the 8th. See too entry of 13 June.
139 . 5. (June 13) . MS reads ‘May 1 3’. GMH wrote ‘May’ for all entries from
7 to 14 June and then changed them, leaving this.
139 . 6. Bond, }ohn (1846-1931), younger brother of Edward Bond. Head
monitor, Merchant Taylors’ School. Sir Thos. White Sch. St John’s,
Oxford, 1864. 2nd Mods 1866; 2nd Greats 1868. Ordained G of E 1870;
1871. Curacies, Milbourne St Andrew, Dorset, and Brighton 1870-4.
Chaplain and Classical Instructor RMA, Woolwich 1874-88. Vicar of
Dinton, Bucks. 1888-98; of St Mary’s, Plaistow, Kent 1898-1904; of
Horsham 1904-18. Published an edition of St Luke’s Gospel 1890. Died
in retirement at Dorking. He does not seem to have been closely in touch
with any of GMH’s group of undergraduate friends, unless through his
brother.
139 . 7. Commemoration. There were nine recipients of Honorary Degrees in
the Sheldonian, of whom Gathorne-Hardy, elected a Burgess for the
University over Gladstone the year before, was the most popular. The
undergraduates punctuated the proceedings with uproar from the gallery,
as they invariably then did on such occasions. The Greweian Oration,
delivered by Matthew Arnold as Professor of Poetry and containing a
eulogy of the lately-dead Keble, could hardly be heard because of the
noise. See the long account in The Times of 14 June. GMH was present
in the gallery (sec later in entry).
NOTES TO JOURNAL 355
139, 8. Grandmamma Smith was born 7 Aug. 1 794, Maria Hodges, one of the
eleven children of Edward Hodges, underwriter at Lloyds, a Bristol man
who moved to London and made a fortune in the Napoleonic war; her
mother was a plump little Devonshire woman. Maria was possibly her
father’s favourite child. She was at a ball at the Lamb Hotel, Eastbourne
(Old Town) when news of the battle of Waterloo arrived; and it was
probably at Eastbourne she met her future husband Dr John Simm Smith
(see p. 349), when he was in practice there. They spent their honeymoon
here. A small water-colour portrait of her in 1827, by T. George, shows
a rather large, strong, handsome face, giving the impression that she could
be severe. Her family’s Reminiscences of their childhood do not say much
of her, but Edward Smith (see p. 380) remembered ‘a distinct and ever
present love and protection’ and being asked to read the Bible to her. She
was hostess at ‘large medical dinner parties’, and of large parties at Christ-
mas (Smith Fam. Papers). No evidence has been found of her opinion of
Mrs Thwaytes (see p. 369). She died Feb. 1867.
139* 9 - area of the theatre: the floor of the Sheldonian. See p. 354.
140. I. Miss RossettVs Princess Progress out: The Prince'" s Progress and other
Poems f by Christina Rossetti, with two designs by D. G. Rossetti, Macmillan,
1866.
140. 2. Miss Thackeray's Cinderella: an unsigned modern fairy story in Com-
Ai//, Jan.-June 1866, reprinted in Five Old Friends^ and A Toung Prince, By
the Author of The Story of Elizabeth, Smith, Elder, 1868. The fairy god-
nn)ther has become the heroine’s rich old aunt. Lady Jane Peppercorn, and
tlic Ball is given in Guildhall. T had written several novels and a tragedy
by the age of 15, but then my father forbade me to waste my time any more
scribbling, and desired me to read other people’s books. I never wrote any
more except one short fairy tale’ (until i860): Lady Ritchie (Anne
Thackeray) to George Smith 1 900 ( Thackeray's Daughter, V. Hammersley
and H. T. Fuller, Dublin, 1951, p. 87).
140. 3. George Arthur Williams, b. 1845, 2nd son of Revd Isaac Williams of
Bixley, Glos. Exeter College Jan. 1863. BA 1866. Curacies 1867-74.
Curate, then Vicar, Weston Beggard, Herefordshire 1874-80.
14®* 4* Benson's Manual of Intercessory Prayer, pt. i, 1863 (pt. ii, 1871).
Richard Meux Benson (1824-1915; see DNB), Vicar of Cowley, founded
the Mission Priests of St John the Evangelist, the ‘Cowley Fathers’, 27 Dec.
1866. His Intercessory Prayer was widely used by Anglo-Catholics.
5. Bp, Wilson's Sacra Privata, and his book on the H,C. (i) The Sacra Pri-
vata, or, private meditations and prayers, of Bp Wilson (Thomas Wilson,
1663-1755, Bp of Sodor and Man 1697); published posthumously 1781,
and reached its nth edn in 1864.
(2) A Short and plain instruction for the better understanding of the lord's
Supper . . 1773, over fifty edns by 1866. The Bp was a household
'vord of piety for a century after his death. Arnold lamented the neglect
of his union of ardpur and good sense in the Preface to Culture and Anarchy
356 NOTES TO JOURNAL
(1869), and exhorted the *SPCK to republish his Maxims of Piety and
Christianity,
140. 6. Glastonbury . . . doorways. The most complete part of the Abbey is
the Lady Chapel ( 1 1 84-6) , with angle-turrets. The carving in the orders
of the exterior arch of the N. door {c, 1185-90) is mainly what GMH refers
to; in one order is a series of medallions showing in relief scenes from the
scriptural life of the Virgin, the Adoration of the Magi, &c. (Detail well
illustrated in A. W. Clapham, English Romanesque Architecture^ I934> pl*
25.) O.T. scenes were begun on the S. door, but not finished. A Gibqrnc
photograph, possibly of the 6o’s, shows the interior of the chapel with
much of its detail richly obscured by ivy and other foliage (Fam. Papers).
140. 7. Avilion, Tennyson, in writing of the island-valley in ‘Morte d’ Arthur’,
Where falls not hail, or rain, or any snow,
Nor ever wind blows loudly; but it lies
Dcep-meadowed, happy, fair with orchard-lawns,
remembered Homer’s description of the Elysian plain [Od. iv. 566). Hopkins
in the first stanza of ‘Heaven-Haven’ {Poems^ p. 40) probably remembered
both.
140. 8. Velindra: an inn in Commercial Road, Bristol, facing the Avon
near the Bedminster Bridge; it is a few hundred yards E. of the site of St
Raphael’s.
140. 9. St, RaphaeVs: the chapel to the Sailors* College, Bedminster, a group
of almshouses near the Bristol Docks, founded 1859. Its High Church
allegiance was clear from the start: Archdeacon Denison officiated and
preached at the opening; and its chaplain, A. H. Ward, introduced vest-
ments, altar-lights, and incense. In 1877 these and his ‘ritualistic practices’
during Holy Communion were complained of to his Bp, C. J. Ellicott,
and his licence was withdrawn in Mar. 1878 {St RaphaeVs, Bristol, The
Church closed by a Bishop. Statement and Correspondence. London, 1878). After
being closed for 15 years, it reopened as a parish church in 1893 with A. H.
Ward as the first vicar; but was bombed during the last War and has since
been demolished. For GMH’s second visit, see p. 256.
140. 10. The rector of St. Ethelburga'^Sy Bishopsgate: ], M. Rodwell, the orienta-
list and translator of the Koran; on becoming Rector in 1862, he intro-
duced vestments, incense, and Gregorian music and made St Ethelburga s
the most ‘advanced* church in the City of London. It became a centre of
troubles over ritualism about the same time as St Raphael’s, but after
Rodwell’s retirement from residence.
140. 1 1 . heard a delightful Gregorian. St Raphael’s was noted for its choir. The
revival of Gregorian tones in Church of England services was an important
part of the High Church movement. ‘The Gregorian tones to the Psalnis
and Canticles were first revived, after a period of two centuries, at Margaret
Chapel. This was in 1843, when Richard Redhead, organist of the chape ,
put forth Laudes Diumae^ The Psalter and Canticles set and pointed to Gregorif^
Tones, With a Preface on Antiphonal Chanting, by the Rev. Frederic
357
NOTES TO JOURNAL
Oakeley, M.A., Prebendary of Lichfield & Minister of Margaret Chapel,
London* (Bumpus, London Churches, ii. 255). Thomas Helmore drew on
Gregorian sources for his Psalter Noted, 1849 (used at St Barnabas’s,
Pimlico: see F. Bennett, The Story of the Revd W, J, E. Bennett, 1909, pp.
150 fiF.)> Hymnal Noted, 1851, published under the auspices of
the Ecclesiological Society. Among the Hopkins Fam. Papers is a col-
lection of chants taken from their friend Thomas Kilner’s Complete Manual
of Church of England Chanting & Psalmody (which includes the Gregorian
Tones), 1850.
140. 12. Tintern . . . Butterfield. The close likeness of the nave arcade of St
Alban’s, Holbom, to that of Tintern, has been noted, for example, by
Francis Bumpus {London Churches, ii. 275), though it is a common English
14th-century type. Mr John Summerson also suggests Tintern — especially
the great W. window — as a source for the lights with very sharp and narrow
heads which occur in the W. windows of St Alban’s, in the centre light of
the E. window of Balliol chapel, and elsewhere in Butterfield’s work; he
sees a likeness in Butterfield’s churches, as well, to the nearly straight-
sided arch which occurs in the rere-arches of the Tintern nave clerestory.
The long high-pitched roof, which the Tintern gables suggest so dramatic-
ally, was dear to Butterfield from St Augustine’s, Canterbury (1845), to
Keble (1868-70).
141. I. Prichard: this seems to refer to someone with whom Addis had had a
breach of friendship rather than to someone who had died. The only
Prichard whom Hopkins and Addis might have both known (GMH cer-
tainly knew of him) was the Revd G. E. Prichard, Fellow of Balliol till
1854, Dolben’s tutor of the year before, now ill with pneumonia (see
p. 335). But his possible friendship with Addis and associations with
Herefordshire remain a mystery. The whole passage, followed by the entry
for two days later, reveals that concern for friendship and association of
landscape with the past, typical of many of GMH’s Oxford friends and
explored particularly in Thyrsis, The Scholar Gipsy, and In Memoriam.
141. 2. Belmont. Church and monastery built on the Belmont estate of
F. R. Wegg-Prosser, in the parish of Clehonger; he became a Roman
Catholic in 1852 ; erected almshouses, school (with chapel), and Church of
St Michael at his own expense, and contributed much to the monastery.
Thomas Joseph Brown (see p. 259) was Benedictine Bp of Newport and
Menevia since 1850, and the church became his Cathedral in 1859.
1 866 the monastery was a Cathedral Priory, with Prior and five resident
Canons, and also the common Novitiate and House of Studies for the whole
Benedictine Congregation; the Novice Master and Professors were also the
Canons. Novices and Juniors arc nowadays once more trained in their
respective houses, and Belmont is an Abbey with its ov/nfamilia, of which
the monks run a boarding school for boys and serve various missions. The
church (by Edward Welby Pugin) is now much as Hopkins saw it, except
for the belfry added to the central tower, but is no longer a cathedral. Sec
Record of the first fifty Tears of St Michael's Cathedral Priory, Belmont, Hereford
[Anon.], Hereford, 1909,
358 NOTES TO JOURNAL
141. 3. grow richly here. The path, starting from S. end of Wye Bridge, runs
beside the river for over \ mile; then turns away from the rougher and
sleeper bank, along what are now Luard Walk and Villa Street (the villa
and a small terrace of cottages were there in 1866), skirting several modern
housing estates. Beyond Hunderton Farm it is now a footpath over fields,
with a large copse to the right and many other fine trees, including oaks.
The church and monastery are surrounded by trees on three sides, with a
clear view to the Black Mountains on the W.
141. 4. Frenchman, No proper Frenchman was then a Belmont monk.
Almost certainly refers to Dom Paul Wilfrid Raynal (1830-1904); born
in Mauritius, he may have had French as his first language. Educated \at
Downside, and professed there 1851; Priest 1857; Professor of ScriptuVe
and Canon Law at Belmont 1862, and Canon Penitentiary of the Cathe-
dral. Cathedral Prior of Belmont 1873, continuously re-elected till
1901, thus holding a most influential position among the Benedictines
through all Hopkins’s later life. Titular Abbot of St Alban’s and returned
to Downside 1901. Procurator of the English Benedictine Congregation in
Rome 1902, and died there. Among his published works were: A Letter on
the validity of Anglican Orders (1870); The Ordinal of Edward VI (1871);
Historic and Doctrinal Aspects of the Lincoln Judgment (1890). Writing to Fr
Keating on 20 Dec. 1909, Addis said Canon Raynal was probably the first
Catholic priest Hopkins ever spoke to, that he spoke to them both on this
occasion of the ‘doubtful validity’ of Anglican orders, and said that till
this doubt was cleared by ‘competent authority’ it was ‘unlawful’ to
participate in the Anglican Communion. ‘I think he made a great im-
pression on both of us and I believe that from that time our faith in
Anglicanism was really gone’ (Campion Hall MSS, quoted in Life, pp. 21-
22).
141. 5. Simm was Simm Smith, son of Henry Smith, a first cousin once
removed of GMH, on his mother’s side, not to be confused with John
Simm Smith, ‘Uncle John’ (see p. 379).
141. 6. Gloucester cathedral . . . sadly done, Cf. ‘Old Mr Davies of Abbenhall
... a simple cheery old man, full of faith and goodness, . . . talking of
Gloucester and the cathedral service . . . said it had a cold propriety, and
utterly lacked “poetry and affection, which are the gems of such worship’”
(William Bright’s Journal, Tuesday 16 June [?]i868).
142. I. Etzkoltzias .... These ‘unhappy flowers’ are spelt Eschscholtzias,
after the German botanist J. F. von Eschscholtz : Jthe best-known species,
E. calif ornica (Californian poppy), has large bright yellow flowers, saffron-
coloured in the centre.
142. 2. the Water-colours : the sixty-second exhibition of the Society of Painters
in Water-Colours (instituted 1804) 5 Mall East.
142. 3. Burne-Jones, (i) *‘Cupid\ Hopkins has made a slip. The picture he saw
was exhibited under the title ‘Zephyrus bearing Psyche asleep to the Palace
of Love, from the Fourth Book of Apuleius*. It was called by the Saturday
Review (16 June 1866) ‘unfortunate and ludicroiis .... His Zephyrus and
Psyche look like two Roman Catholic saints, and at once suggest the idea
NOTES TO JOURNAL 359
of a translation to heaven.* This is one of the earliest studies leading up to
the big Cupid and Psyche decorations now in the Birmingham City Col-
lection; but it is probably not the same as the water-colour study of the
Zephyrus and Psyche theme also at Birmingham (No. 129 [iii]), because
that has two other subjects on the same sheet. Dr Mary Woodall of the
Birmingham Gallery says, however, that they have no record of an inde-
pendent version, (ii) This water-colour version of ‘Le Chant d*Amour*,
now in the Museum of Fine Arts, Boston, USA, differs considerably from
the later and larger oil version reproduced in Malcolm Bell, Sir Edward
Burne-Jones, p. 34. The Boston Catalogue description reads: ‘The girl
playing the organ has red-gold hair and wears a dress of old ivory tint;
the blindfolded figure of Love, blowing the organ bellows, is in crimson
robe, and her blue mantle flutters in the wind; the knight is in steel
armour, and has mauve sleeves and breeches. The tulips in the foreground
are mauve, yellow and pink and white, with green leaves; in the back-
ground, a gray-blue castle and city, and trees with dull green foliage.’ The
richness and depth of colour were much praised by contemporaries and by
later critics.
142. 4. Smallfield, Frederick, ARWS (1829-1915) was a prolific water-
colourist, exhibiting chiefly at the Old Water-Colour Society. For his
illustration to Shelley’s ‘Music, when soft voices die’, see p. no. In RA
1866 Hopkins would have seen his ‘Snake’s head lilies’. One of his works
is in the Manchester City Gallery.
142.5. Jo/znjon, Edward Killingworth (1825-96) is very little documented,
and scarcely any of his work seems to have reached public collections. Of
two of his pictures in this exhibition, the Saturday Review (16 June 1866)
said: ‘ “The Visitor” is a very carefully studied and, in some respects,
meritorious little work, but spoiled by the crude green and hard drawing of
its leafage. In his other work, “Tuning up”, the figures are not injured by
what surrounds them. A family in the last century are going to have a little
music . . . etc.’ Johnson also exhibited ‘Girl reading a Play-bill’ and ‘Card-
Players’, five pictures in all.
142. 6. Boyce, George Price ( 1 826-97) was trained as an architect, but a meet-
ing with David Cox in 1 849 turned him to landscape painting. Extracts from
his Diaries 1851-75 are in Old Water-Colour Society's Club Annual Volume, xix,
^94ij with eight reproductions of his work, other interesting illustra-
tions, and reprinted Memoir by Arthur E. Street; they contain valuable
material about the Rossettis and others. There are examples of his work in
the Ashmolean (3), National Gallery of Scotland (3), Birmingham City
Gallery (i). His pictures in this exhibition were No. 57 ‘Whitby Abbey at
Sunset’ ; 1 34 ‘Pangbourne, Berks.’ ; 1 40 ‘ Wotton House, Surrey* ; 167 ‘Nora’ ;
269 ‘On the Thames, between Streatley and Pangbourne’ ; 292 ‘An Out-of-
the-way Nook on the Thames in July’ ; 302 ‘Brickfield at Pitland Street,
Surrey*.
*4^* 7 * Rosenberg, George F, (1825-69), son of the painter T. E. Rosenberg;
lived and died at Bath, where he was a teacher of art. Associate of the
Water-Colour Society 1847 ^tnd frequent exhibitor there. Painted many
36 o notes to journal
Norwegian scenes about 1862. In this exhibition his pictures were: 60
‘Caswell Bay*; 88 ‘Three Cliffs Bay’; 104 ‘The Castle Moat’; 139 ‘On the
Wye’; 155 ‘The Haiders, Manningford Bruce’; 183 ‘The Chapel, Good-
rich Castle’; 215 ‘Just Gathered’; 236 ‘Twilight’. There is at least one
water-colour landscape of his in the Victoria and Albert.
142 . 8. Prinsep, Valentine Cameron (1838- 1904; see DNB), the well-known
friend of Watts and Rossetti, who had helped with the Oxford Union
frescoes. He had only these two pictures in RA 1866. The full catalogue
entry for the portrait was: ‘Lieut. -Colonel Charles Gordon, G.B., R.S., Jn
his uniform as a mandarin of the yellow jacket, a rank conferred on hiin
by the Emperor of China for his services against the rebel Taepingi^.
Painted for the Mess of the Royal Engineers, Chatham.’ Now in the Mcs^
of the RE Depot, Barton Stacey, nr Andover. Of ‘La Festa di Lido’ the
Saturday Review (9 June 1866) said: ‘It is not a pleasant picture in any way.
There is a strange want of grace in it, and a painful absence of other
attractive qualities.’
142 . 9. Hughes, Arthur (1832-1915; see DNB), the well-known follower of
the Pre-Raphaelites. His earlier painting such as ‘April Love’ (Tate), ‘The
Long Engagement’ (Birmingham), and ‘Home from Sea’ (Ashmolean)
has in recent years won wide appreciation for its ‘constant intensity of
delicate and poetic sentiment’ (R. Ironside and J. Gere, Pre-Raphaelite
Painters, Phaidon, 1948). In middle life his best work was in black-and-
white illustration, specially notable being his 25 drawings for Enoch Arden
(1866) and 125 for Christina Rossetti’s book of children’s poems. Sing
Song (1872). Hopkins here seems to have made some mistake, for this
illustration to her poem does not appear in the body or index of the RA
Catalogue 1866. Hughes did exhibit in RA 1866 ‘Good Night — Day’s
turn is over, now arrives the night’s — Browning^', ‘Mrs Thomas Woolncr’;
and ‘The Guarded Bower’.
See also p. 247 and n. for ‘The Convent Boat’.
142 . 10. John Samuel (1829-77; see DjVR), son of a clergyman who
was a talented water-colour painter. Had no professional training; learnt by
studying Crome and Constable. Exhibited oil landscapes at RA and BI
from 1849. Much influenced by Pre-Raphaelites; ‘his later works are
characterised by great elaboration of detail, an original and striking scheme
of colour, and strong poetic feeling’, says F. M. O’Donoghue in DNB, and
puts among his best works of this class ‘Midsummer moonlight — Dew
Rising’, which is the picture Hopkins refers to. Ravon also had ‘A Voice of
joy and gladness’ in this exhibition. See also p. 247 for RA 1874.
142 .11. Brett, John (1831-1 902 ; see DNB) . His earlier work has lately been
much seen, praised, and reproduced, especially ‘The Stonebreaker’, from
the Walker Gallery, Liverpool, and ‘The Val d ’Aosta* (see, for example^
R. Ironside and J. Gere, Pre-^Raphaelite Painters, Phaidon Press, 1948). His
two pictures in RA 1866 were ‘Capri in the Evening’ and ‘Bonchurch
Downs’. His ‘February in the Isle of Wight’, dated 1866, is in Birmingham
City Gallery and reproduced Phaidon Book, pi. 78. Examples of his later,
le^s interesting work, mainly seascapes and seashore subjects, are at the
NOTES TO JOURNAL 361
Tate, Birmingham, Walker, and Holloway College. His attractive drawing
of Patmore as a young man is reproduced in Basil Champneys, Memoirs
and Correspondence of Coventry Patmore, See also p. 246 and n.
142. 12. Leighton, Frederic (1830-96; President, RA 1878-96; see DNB and
Mrs Russell Barrington, Life of Frederic Leighton, referred to below as Life).
The first English painter elevated to the Peerage (the day before his death).
GMH saw four Leighton pictures in RA 1868 (see p. 167 and n.); for his
discussion of his pictures in RA 1874, PP- 245-6. Syracusan bride: full
title was ‘A Syracusan Bride Leading Wild Beasts in Procession to the Altar
of Diana*. Suggested by Theocritus, Idylls, ii. Said to have left the country,
but sketches and squared tracings for the design are in the Leighton House
Collection {Life, ii. 10, where letter from Caroline Norton about the picture
also given).
143. I. Milicent Hopkins (1849-1946) was GMH*s eldest sister, the only
member of the family besides himself who entered into a regular religious
life. In Oct. 1863, when she was going to send him a kettle-holder for his
Balliol rooms, he wrote home apologizing for forgetting her birthday on the
17th; it seems likely that this was the occasion of the verses ‘A Complaint*
{Poems, p. 145), which appear to have been written by GMH speaking
in the person of Milicent. In youth she, like her sister Grace, was very
interested in music. There is extant with her name, and the date 23 Feb.
1866, a copy of Friedrich Richter, Treatise on Harmony, transl. and adapted
by Franklin Taylor. GMH*s letter of 7 Feb. 1869 {LL, iii. 106) shows that
she was already then an ‘out-sister* of what was called the All Saints*
Home. This was the Sisterhood founded in 1851 by William Upton
Richards, Vicar of All Saints*, Margaret Street till his death in 1873
(DNB), She then lived at home, and was occupied in nursing, &c. Writing
to her on 27 Mar. 1876, LGH spoke of ‘my dear friend Sister the Hon.
Aristocralina d*All Souls’. On 6 Jan. 1877 (the year of his Priesthood)
GMH wrote to Baillie of her as ‘given to Puseyism*, with various comments
that did more credit to his logic than to his charity {LL, iii. 240). It is clear
that Milicent and the Hopkins family were in touch through All Saints*
with Maria Francesca Rossetti (GMH to his mother, 5 Mar. 1872;
LL, iii. 1 18), who was fully professed in the Sisterhood in 1873, three
years before her death. The full profession of Milicent Hopkins is recorded
in the Family Bible: ‘Took the Sister*s Habit, loth August 1878.’ Other
family friends in the Sisterhood were two of the daughters of Gapt. Charles
Barrington Simeon (see p. 352). There is a portrait of her as a Nun by her
brother Arthur (see p. 303) and photographs of her just before her profession.
*43* 2. the Hollands: Mr and Mrs William Holland, of 15 Upper Harley
btreet, W. (see p. 60). The architect G. E. Street (see below) married as
his second wife, on 1 1 Jan. 1876, their daughter Jessie. She died 8 weeks
later of a fever caught on their honeymoon in Italy. There are Hopkins
family cartes de visite, both dated 1873, Caroline and Edith
Holland, who were probably her sisters.
*43' 3- Street, George Edmund, the architect (1824-81 ; see DNB; A. E.
Street, Memoir of George Edmund Street^ 1888; H. S, Goodhart-Rendel
362 NOTES TO JOURNAL
English Architecture since the Regency^ 1953)* A devout Anglo-Catholic
closely in touch with leading churchmen and with the Pre-Raphaelites.
One of the architects of ‘Vigour’ and ‘Go’ who broke away from the
tyranny of Middle Pointed (Goodhart-Rendel). After apprenticeship in
Gilbert Scott’s office, one of his first undertakings was the ‘remarkable group’
in red brick, with Bath stone dressings, &c., of church, schools, and
parsonage at All Saints’, Boyne Hill, Maidenhead (see p. 397), with
‘pitiless polychromy’ and interior decoration from copies of designs by
Ovcrbeck (see p. 315): full illustrations and description in Illustrated News
of the World, 2 Oct. 1858. Many of Street’s buildings were knowi^ to
GMH. For SS Philip and James, Oxford (1862), see p. 346; for Guddesdon
College, p. 351 ; for St Mary Magdalene, Paddington, p. 397; for Bristol
Cathedral nave, p. 256 and n. Other well-known buildings by him include
All Saints’, Clifton; St Saviour’s, Eastbourne; St John’s, Torquay; the
Law Courts. Later this summer GMH consulted Street about an altau-
cruet design for Bridges [LL, i. 4 and 7-16).
Mrs Street was Mariquita, daughter of Robert Proctor (who had pub-
lished in 1825 ^ Narrative of a Journey across the Cordillera of the Andes), and
niece of John Payne Collier.
143 . 4. Croydon, Blunt House, Croydon, the home of GMH’s Smith grand-
parents, was built on part of the ancient property of the Symons and Peers
families in 1 756 by Alderman Peers; it took its name later from his daughter
Elizabeth’s marrying Sir Charles William Blunt (1731-1802) and in-
heriting the house. It was occupied 1793-1843 by a series of tenants of the
Blunts, and then put up for sale. Mr Thomas Russell (either the purchaser
or a devisee in trust) let the house in 1843 to Mr Atkinson Wilkins, whose
furniture was distrained for arrears of rent in 1846. Dr John Simm Smith
(see p. 349) became Russell’s tenant in 1847 and lived there till his death
in 1877.
The house stood on the S. edge of the town, on the E. side of the main
Brighton Road, at the bottom of the High Street, South End, near the road
junction at the Swan and Sugar Loaf Inn. The entrance-gates were just N.
of the present Ledbury Road, and the estate extended E. to the London
and Brighton Railway. The house, of brick with stone facings, was large
(frontage about 112 feet): the central block had a deep and broad bay
running the height of three stories on the garden side, and was flanked by
single-storied wings making a depressed H. There arc photographs and a
drawing of the garden front in the family papers. There arc also three
pencil drawings of the interior (artist unknown), -and four others showing
details of some of the carved woodwork of doorways and fireplaces, which
were particularly fine. The architect Mr John Oldrid Scott (son of Sir
Gilbert), who was the last occupant of the house before its demolition m
about 1889, removed some of these doorways and chimney-pieces to Ridg-
way House, Oxted, whence he wrote : ‘The mouldings and carving are very
beautiful as well as the proportions of the doors &;c. It was clearly a house
designed by an architect . . . There was a trace of Gothic feeling in a few
of the fireplaces &c and in the upper corridor where the spaces were too
narrow for round arches pointed ones were used. The stone staircase wi
NOTES TO JOURNAL 363
its wrought iron handrail is excellent* (Fam. Papers. Possibly addressed to
Manley Hopkins, before 1897).
It is not clear from the Blake papers (see below) how much land Dr
Smith rented with the house in 1847; it may have been 18 acres. It cer-
tainly included the 2-acre lawn behind the house ‘beautifully ornamented
with stately Timber Trees’ and probably the ‘extensive walled gardens’
N. of this, and the Conservatory, Plantations, Melon Ground, Ice and
Summer Houses, with a large cluster of stables and other buildings to the
S. But during his long tenancy the grounds with the house were much
reduced. Aberdeen Road was cut through the walled garden, and in 1868
building-plots were sold off along the new Heathfield Road on the E.,
named after the Sussex estates of the Blunt family. In the 1878 sale, just
after Smith’s death, the house was sold in a lot with only just over two acres
and without many of its outbuildings. But it is clear that the trees formed
one of the great delights of the place to GMH and others. There were two
cedars of Lebanon and a very fine and large old beech on the lawn; and
there was a good group of about nine younger beeches in a field divided
from the lawn by a low, open iron fence. There are extant drawings by
Maria Gibcrne of all these beeches; and it is clear that the trees and shrubs,
combined with the mild undulation of the ground, formed the immediate
attractions of the house’s surroundings. Plate 2 (the frontispiece to the
1st edn) is GMH’s drawing of weeds in one of the fields.
A further main matter of interest in GMH’s childhood would have been
the building of St Peter’s Church, by Gilbert Scott, in 1851 at the SE.
corner of the Blunt estate, a few minutes’ walk from the house: it was
probably the first church- building that he closely watched. His grand-
mother, grandfather, and Uncle John are all buried under a plain stone
slab by the path approaching the S. porch of St Peter’s.
Sources: Clarence G. Paget, Croydon Houses of the Past (1937), pp. 32-33,
reproducing a photograph of the house seen from the road; Blake Papers;
fam. Papers.
144- I- Ox-eye-like flowers: probably Wild Chamomile {Matricaria chamo-
milla ) .
144.2. Bickersteth, Revd Edward Henry (1825-1906), a leading Evangelical,
was Vicar of Christ Church, Hampstead 1855-85. Though the families
were on friendly terms, the Hopkins children, being told that Mr Bicker-
steth was 'very low’, imagined him to be capable of unmentionable crimes
(LGH in conversation). The children certainly often heard him preach,
cither at Christ Church or St John’s. He was a prolific author of hymns and
religious verse, including a huge work Tester day. To-day and For Ever. He
became Dean of Gloucester in 1885, and very suddenly Bp of Exeter in
thf'. same year. ‘And Exeter. It is exceedingly funny. Has Mr Gladstone
been reading the Poem in 12 Books. For Ever and To-day. Does he promote
him one step at the completion of each book? Where will he get to? I long
to know the secret. Perhaps it is all to stop him writing another poem half
so long? He will never have time to manage it now: and the leisure of a
Deanery might be perilous’ {A Forty Tears' Friendship, Letters from the late
NOTES TO JOURNAL
Henry Scott Holland to A^rs Drew^ ed. S. L. OUard, JQiQi pp. 86—87), LGH
wrote to his sister fCate^ 10 Apr. 1885^ -I had already marked with my
eagle eye the elevation of Mr. Bickersteth to a height somewhat nearer the
“clear crystalline sky” of which he used to speak than that in which he
used to be. He comes however of a Bishopy family I think’ (Fam. Papers).
Bickersteth’s ‘clear crystalline sky* had also been quoted in a letter of LCH
to Milicent Hopkins of 2 y Mar. 1876. For a more openly sympathetic view,
see F. K. Aglionby, The Life of Edward Henry Bickersteth (1907), where
details of his Hampstead life and work are given, without mention of the
Hopkinses or their special friends.
1 44* 3. French and Belgian exhibition: the thirteenth of the series of such ekhi-
bitions organized in London by Mr Gambart, :
144. 4. Daubigny^ Charles-Pierre (1846-86), French landscapist : there are four
of his pictures in the Nat. Gallery of Scotland and a number in the Tate.
Richard Muther, The History of Modern Painting, 1907, ii. 350, particularly
praises his river-scenes.
144. 5. TissoVs Spring (Specimen of a Portrait) exhibited in Grosvenor
Gallery 1878 (No. 31). Spring is not mentioned in James Laver’s Vulgar
Society,
144. 6. Millais: see p. 167 and n.
144. 7. Lagye, Victor (1825-96), genre painter, pupil of Leys at Antwerp. A
Garibaldi volunteer 1848; lived rest of his life in Antwerp, teaching in
Institute of Arts. Examples of his work are at Antwerp and Brussels.
144. 8. Oaks .... On Hopkins as a botanist Mr J. S. L. Gilmour, FLS,
Director of the Botanic Garden, Cambridge, who has written many of the
botanical notes for this edn, writes : ‘GMH looked at plants with the eye
of an artist rather than of a botanist. He possessed remarkable powers of
close observation from his own very personal angle, but as this “angle” was
far removed from the normal botanical one, and as the language he used
in his descriptions was highly individual, it is not always easy to be sure of
what plant — or what part of a plant — ^he had before him. A botanist can-
not help wishing that he had had more botanical knowledge as a background
to his genius for minute analysis of shapes and patterns — the combination
would undoubtedly have resulted in taxonomic work of a very high order.
The entry on oaks here, and the further study of oak leaves on p. 146, are
good examples of this minute observation.
145. I. Midhurst. The Hopkinses seem to have made several excursions
here at different times; there may have been some family connexion, not
shown in any of GMH’s letters. In one of the family albums are two
excellent photographs of {a) the Close Walks, Midhurst — a cathedral-
like avenue of trees, and {b) the ruins of Gowdray Castle. Two of
Hopkins’s sketch-books, dated Aug. 1878 and Sept. 1884, contain fairly
numerous drawings of Easebourne ( i mile away) and Cowdray Park, and
share her brother’s interest in trees; one is of haystacks, ‘Sept. 5th [1878]-
From our window,’
NOTES TO JOURNAL 365
145* 2- Lavington. The reasons for GMH*s visit may have been more
personal and complicated than the interest in Butterfield already noted in
his Diary (see p. 60). The church of St Mary Magdalen was the gift of
C. J. Laprimaudaye (1807-59), Manning’s curate at Lavington-cum-
GrafTham from 1845 to 1850, and his confessor and intimate friend. He had
married in 1834 Anne Francesca, daughter of John Hubbard of Stratford
Grove, Essex (and sister of J. G. Hubbard, ist Baron Addington, the
founder of St Alban’s, Holborn) ; and the Hopkins and Hubbard families
may well have known each other there. Laprimaudaye became a Roman
Catholic at the end of 1850, before the church was completed and shortly
before Manning himself. His wife died in 1 854, about a year after her own
conversion; and, with Manning and Robert Wilberforce, he then helped
to found the Oblates of St Charles in Bayswater. Two years later he died
of smallpox while studying for the priesthood in Rome (‘In losing Lapri-
maudaye I seem to have lost a part of myself’, Manning said to a friend
at the time : Purcell’s Life of Mannings ii. 7 1 ) . St Mary’s can have had only a
handful of parishioners when it was built, but the site that Laprimaudaye
chose is conspicuously beautiful : the church stands among pines and birch
trees, with a terraced churchyard now dominated by huge cypresses.
145.3. Cowdery Park: Cowdray park, extending E. of Midhurst for over a
mile, belonged then to the 6th Earl of Egmont, who had bought it from the
Poyntz family. The great Tudor house, built by the Earl of Southampton,
was destroyed by fire in 1 793 ; its picturesque ruins have been preserved and
are finely illustrated in Cowdray & Easebourne Priory^ by W. H. St J. Hope,
1919-
145. 4. Walked through Lord EgramonVs park: Petworth House, whose vast
park begins about 4 miles E. of the ruins of Cowdray. The 3rd Earl of
Egremont (1751-1837), who lived at Petworth for most of his 86 years and
became famous as the patron of Turner and other painters, had left it in
1837 to his natural son, George Wyndham, later created Lord Leconfield.
The Egremont earldom became extinct in 1845.
145. 5. Mr, Ing at Whiting^s farm: the farmer’s name was Henry Ings; and
the farm, part of the Nuthurst estate then belonging to the Nelthorpe
family, lies by itself well off the lane from Horsham to Nuthurst. ‘The farm
is as ugly as can be but the country very pretty’, GMH wrote to Bridges
on 24 July (LL, i. 2).
* 45 - 8. Denne Park: a mile S. of Horsham, on Denne Hill.
*46. I. One of the day's papers quotes the Moniteur . . . : the Daily Telegraph,
under Foreign Intelligence. The rumours concerned the conversations in
progress between the King of Prussia and the Emperor Napoleon, who had
been approached as mediator to effect an armistice in the Austro-Prussian
War. The Times carried a similar complaint from the Moniteur,
*46* 2. resolved . , , after my Degree, Apart from letting Macfarlane and Garrett
know through ‘incaution’, Urquhart was the only friend Hopkins ‘de-
liberately told’ of his conversion (24 Sept. 1866: LL, iii. 26). His letters
throw no light on the motives for his changed decision to be received that
366 NOTES TO ]001iL«IA.I.
October, imtead ot waitii^ until the MMag Junet and tfaere •
the Journal from a4july 1866 to 10 July 1867 («* P.14’1'1. On
vjttAe Xo l^evk'man'. ‘\^nvy father and mother) urge me with
entreaties to wait till I have takm my deg^more than half a
course it is impossible, and since it is impo^ble to wait as long as they wisj,
it seems to me useless to wait at all’ {LL, Hi. ag). Referring to a proposed
retreat, Newman wrote to GMH 6 Dec , ; ^it does not seem to me that there
2S any hurry about it — your first duty is to make a good class* (LL, Hi, 405 ).
146 . 3. Mr, Nelthorpe's park: Nuthurst Lodge (now Sedgewick Park), alfout
a mile S. of Whiting’s farm. It commands views of the South Downs ^nd
Shoreham harbour.
146 . 4. a large-leaved kind of ash: possibly refers to young ashes which,
having been cut back, produce sucker-shoots with larger leaves.
147 . I. Spoke to Macfarlane, foolishly. Under this same date Macfarlane’s
Diary has: ‘Lunch at 2. Walked out with Hopkins and he confided to me
his fixed intention of going over to Rome. I did not attempt to argue with
him as his grounds did not admit of argument’ (LL, iii. 397).
147 , 2. There is a tree that has a leaf like traveller'* s-joy, , . , This passage is
obscure, but it seems that GMH is referring to Traveller’s Joy {Clematis
vitalha) climbing over Wayfaring Tree {Viburnum lantana). He evidently
thought at one stage that some of the clematis leaves belonged to the
viburnum. The fruits described arc certainly those of the viburnum and
not of the white-beam {Sorbus aria, the ‘Wind-beat whitebeam’ of The
Starlight Night ) .
147 , 3. Merely . . . believe inserted from left-hand page of MS.
147 . 4. Aug, 31, i86y, the opening entry in the 2nd of the surviving Journal
note-books, was obviously the date on which GMH began to write up this
part of his Journal. July 10, 1867’, the day he left for France, comes im-
mediately underneath it.
147 . 5. July 10, i86y. This journey to Paris was with Basil Poutiatine (or
Putyatin), eldest son of the Admiral (see below), as is shown by letter to
Urquhart of 7 July. Basil Poutiatine (1846-72) matriculated Christ Church
1863 ; 2nd Greats 1867, He seems to have been only on the edge of GMH’s
main circle of friends ; but he is of interest because he was probably the
only member of the Orthodox Church whom GMH had known personally,
at a time when approximations between the Anglican and Orthodox
churches were looked on as hopeful for ‘Re-Union^. For the circumstances
of his early death see p. 229.
147 . 6. Hdtel de Saxe: did not survive under this name after the 1914-18
War,
147 . 7 . Exposition, The Universal Exhibition had been opened by Napoleon
III on I Apr. in the Champ de Mars, the main approach being from the
end of the Pont de Jena. The main building, single-storied, of brick, iron,
and glass, was thought to be effectively utilitarian, logical, and convenient,
but lacking the imaginative quality of the Crystal Palace. It formed a
NOTES TO JOURNAL 367
series of concentric oval galleries with an arena-like garden in the middle.
I Each gallery held a special kind of exhibit, the bigger things (such as
machinery) being on the outside. Each nation had a wedge-shaped area of
space, divided from the next by radiating alleys. Other separate national
pavilions were built in the Park outside. See, for example, Saturday Review,
14 Sept. 1867, pp. 344-6; Art Journal, May 1867 to Aug. 1868, the last
special supplement having a view of the buildings and park.
147, 8. tfie Perigord: the hotel du P^rigord, Rue de Grammont, S. of the
Boulevard des Italiens.
148. I. the Admiral. Count Evfimy Vasil’evich Putyatin (1803-83); in
Russian navy; served at Navarino. Negotiated Russian trade treaties with
Persia, Japan, and China. First official visit to England, ordering ships for
Black Sea Fleet 1841. Admiral 1858. Special military and naval attach^,
Russian Embassy in London 1858-61. Later, Minister of Education and
member of Russian State Council.
148. 2. St. Eustache: the great Renaissance church, facing the Halles
Centrales, had been entirely restored after a fire in 1844.
148. 3. Nadar: pseudonym of the French writer, caricaturist, photographer,
and balloonist, F( 51 ix Tournachon. After his various ascents in the 6o’s,
his balloons, moored to the ground, were used to watch enemy movements
during the siege of Paris 1870.
148. 4. Leys: see p. 33 and n. He was awarded the Gold Medal in Paris
this year.
148. 5. Florent Willems, b. 1823 in Liittich, painted in Paris: another his-
torical genre painter, who faithfully reproduced scenes of i6th- and 17th-
century patrician life; also a restorer.
148. 6. Alfred Stevens (1828-1906), brother of Joseph, the animal-painter; b.
Brussels, worked in Paris. Muther, ii. 417—21, discusses him as the dis-
coverer and ‘historical painter of the Parisienne\ His pictures were very
popular both on the Continent and in England by the i86o’s.
148* 7 - ^he Bavarian Pictures, also housed in a separate art-gallery outside,
were considered disappointing. The show-piece was Kaulbach’s huge
cartoon for the fresco in the New Museum, Berlin, ‘The Age of the Refor-
mation’, with Luther in the centre. The focus of interest was the work of
the ‘realist’ Piloty and his disciples (see Muther, i. 487-91, ‘The Revolu-
tion of the German Colourists’; Art Journal, Sept. 1867, pp. 208-9).
148. 8. Browne, Charles Gordon (1845-1920), son of O. Browne of Chelten-
ham. Harrow 1859-63 (head of School). Balliol. 2nd Mods 1865; 3rd
(Ireats 1867. Deacon 1871; Priest 1872. After several curacies, Chaplain
to Glewer House of Mercy 1882-8; Asst Sec. English Church Union 1890-2.
Rector of Lympstone, Devon 1892-1910. Author of Instructions in the Way
0/ Life, 1881 ; and co- translator of St Gregory Nazianzen in Schaff ’s Post-^
Nicene Fathers. William Bright wrote to Liddon of him, after this visit to
France : ‘He is really a dear fellow with a great deal of thought as well as a
very warm heart and a very devout soul ... he said to me the other day
368 NOTES TO JOURNAL
that he thought Protestantism, that is, unsacramental religion, led natu-
rally to Unitarianism or unbelief. ... I don’t think his stay in France has
prepossessed him in favour of Roman services, but quite otherwise:
although he expressed to me his regret that we had not the ‘Tabernacle’
in our churches. ... It wd. be worth while for you, perhaps, to have a walk
with him some day’ (from Lympstone, 23 Sept. 1867).
148. 9. ^blue bow': ‘with each end of thy blue bow* {Temp,, iv. i. 80).
149. I. Dolben's death. For main note on Dolben, see p. 325. There is a de-
tailed account of his accidental death by drowning in the river Wc^and
on 28 June 1867 in RB’s Memoir, there referred to. GMH’s letter tq RB
of 30 Aug. 1867 {LL, i. 16-17) says: ‘I looked forward to meeting Do^ben
and his being a Catholic more than to anything. At the same time fi;om
never having met him but once I find it difficult to realise his death or feel
as if it were anything to me. You know there can very seldom have hap-
pened the loss of so much beauty (in body and mind and life) and of tbe
promise of still more . - and then quotes Newman’s letter about his
death. Newman’s letters to Coles and Sewell after Dolben’s death are
referred to in main note.
149. 2. See June 28: the only reference to the missing Journal note-book that
presumably covered the period 25 July 1866 to 9 July 1867. See Preface,
p. xxiv.
149* 3. Foreign Paintings: 14th season of Exhibition of French and Flemish
Pictures, held in the French Callery, 120 Pall Mall; Cambart’s successor,
H. Wallis, widened its scope to include, for example, several German and
Spanish artists. For painters mentioned by GMH, see next note. The Art
Journal, 1867, pp. 124-5, picked out for special praise Alma-Tadema,
De Jonghe, Vibert, and Ger6me.
149. 4. Alma-Tadema, Sir Lawrence (1836-1912; see DNB), born in Hol-
land, pupil of Leys in Antwerp, settled in London 1 870 ; celebrated for
what the Art Journal, 1867, discussing ‘Tibullus’ visit to Delia’, called
‘reanimated classics’. See F. G. Stephens, Laurence Alma Tadema: A Sketch
of his Life and Work, 1895 (although it reproduces no pictures before 1876);
Ruskin, Works, ed. Cook and Wedderburn, xxxiii. 306 ff.; and for a con-
temporary discussion by one of GMH’s early friends, G. A. Simcox in
Portfolio, 1874, p. 109. See also pp. 240 and 245.
Auguste Bonheur (1824-84), chiefly landscapist, brother of Rosa Bonheur,
the animal-painter : both were pupils of their father, Raymond, in Paris.
Bonnet, Lion, b. 1833 Bayonne: his ‘St. Vincent of Paul’ is referred to
by Muther, ii. 424.
Devriendt: probably Juliaan de Vriendt (1842-1935), Belgian historical
painter who exhibited in same Exhibition the following year.
De Jonghe: Gustave de Jonghe (1829-93), Belgian genre painter: works
at Courtrai, Antwerp, Brussels, and Ghent. His ‘Antecedent to Confession
was given prominence in this Exhibition.
I Ruiperes: Luis Ruipdrez (1832-67), Spanish genre and portrait painter,
school of Meissonier.
NOTES TO JOURNAL 369
Vibertf Jean Georges (1840-1902), also follower of Meissonier, made his
London d^but with eight pictures in this Exhibition. The Art Journal was
impressed by his ‘somewhat eccentric and startling style’, but thought
better of it the next year and decided he had ‘usurped too prominent a
position’ on this occasion.
Escosura: Igmacio de L^on y Escosura (1834-1901), Spanish genre
painter, school of G^r6me.
Gripps, G. J., Belgian still-life and genre painter, active in Germany and
Belgium in the i86o’s and 70’s.
Hamman, Edouard (1819-88), pupil of de Keyser, b. Ostend, worked in
Paris.
Stevens: see p. 367. The Art Journal mentions two of his pictures in this
Exhibition: ‘Perfectly Satisfied’ and ‘The New Toy.*
Toulmouche, Auguste (1829-90), French genre painter, celebrated at the
time as ‘le peintre des boudoirs’.
Meissonier, Jean Louis Ernest (1815-91), now at height of his fame for
both his miniature rococo genre pictures and military paintings : he received
immense sums for both.
Ludwig, Carl (1839-1901), German landscapist.
Landelle, Charles (1821-1908) specialized in religious, historical and,
later, oriental genre pictures. Of the painting exhibited here, the Art
Journal said it ‘may be admired in the drapery; the flesh is opaque, and the
colour poor’.
Larnbinet, Emile Charles (1815-77), French landscapist. The Art Journal
praised his ‘Coast of Brittany’ in this Exhibition.
GSrorne, Leon (1824-1904), pupil of Dclaroche, specialized in antique
and Egyptian subjects. Muther, i. 366, has not much good to say
of him.
Lk>y, Emile (1825-90), won the Paris gold medal in 1889. His ‘Death of
Orpheus’ is in the Luxembourg.
Weber, Otto (1832-88), b. Berlin, worked and exhibited in Paris and
London, where he had many commissions from the Queen. He gained a high
reputation for his cattle-and-landscape pictures. Works are in Victoria and
Albert Museum and Lille.
15®' 1 • Bishop’s wood, belonging to the Sec of London, was still standing then
on the SW. side of Highgate.
>5®- 2. the little book. See p. 391 (n. 169. 2).
*5®* 3. Judgment pronounced against Mrs. Thwaites’ will. Ann Thwaytes, of
Charman Dean, near Worthing, a widow who had inherited £500,000
from her husband on his death in 1834, had died in Apr. 1866. As three
of the executors of her will she had appointed Dr John Simm Smith (Mrs
Manley Hopkins’s father, wrongly referred to in the Law Reports as
‘Simms Smith’), his brother Samuel, and his son John. Under the will Dr
Smith and his brother were to receive about £180,000 as residuary lega-
tees. Grant of probate was contested by Mrs Thwaytes’s sister, Mrs
Tebbitt, as her next-of-kin, and by two of Mrs Tebbitt’s children. After a
case in the Court of Probate lasting 9 days, Sir J. P. Wilde found Mrs
B Cq 28 B b
370 NOTES TO JOURNAL
Thwaytes incapable of testamentary disposition, owing to the diseased state
of her mind. The evidence of servants and tradespeople, as well as of her
relatives, made it clear that she had been a victim of the wildest religious
hallucinations, believing — among other delusions — that she and Dr Smith
were members of the Holy Trinity, that Dr Smith knew all her thoughts,
and that she had a special part to play in the Last Judgment, for which
event she had prepared the drawing-room of her London house. Dr Smith
had first attended her during a nervous fever in 1832; since then he had
been her regular medical adviser and, later, had assisted her in controlling
her property. Under her first will (drafted immediately on her husband’s
death) he would have been left about £500,000. In fact he received from
here for over 30 years an annuity of £2,000, as well as about £50,000 in
gifts; while his brother, Samuel Smith, was employed to manage her
household at £400 p.a. The case {Smith v. Tebbitt) is reported in full
in the Law Reports [/ Probate and Divorce {1865-g)^ p. 398], together with an
earlier case (same Report, p. 354) establishing Mrs Tebbitt ^s title as next-
of-kin. It naturally attracted much attention in the Press: The Times of
7 Aug. 1867 gave a long summary of the judgement; and the Saturday
Review (10 Aug. 1867), p. 184, published an article agreeing with the
Court*s decision and marked by obvious hostility towards the Smiths. The
case and its publicity must have been agonizing to the Hopkins family.
A surviving letter from Kate Hopkins before her marriage gives a picture
of Mrs Thwaytes’s generosity to the Smith household, with no hint of
abnormality; she had just given them two musical parties, and Kate had
been staying for a month with her at Herne Bay. Richard Lane (see p. 420)
exhibited two lithographs of her, RA 1843 and 1852.
150 . 4. the Palace at Aluswell Hill: the Alexandra Palace. The project for
reconstructing the 2nd International Exhibition building (of 1862) on
Muswell Hill, as a North London rival to the Crystal Palace, was begun in
1864. The park, race-course, and railway-station were part of the same
plan. After long delays and the forming of a new company to finish it,
it was burnt down (through the carelessness of a worker) a fortnight after
its splendid opening on 24 May 1873. It was reopened in 1875. The
original Exhibition building. South Kensington, which supplied both
model and materials, is illustrated in the Art Journal’s Illustrated Catalogue
of the Exhibition^ 1862.
150 . 5. madrepores : perforate corals.
151 • I. National Portraits, This was the second of three special loan exhibi-
tions organized, on the suggestion of the Earl of Derby, by the Committee
of Council on Education. Preliminary notice and appeal for exhibits in,
for example, Saturday Review^ 21 Oct. 1865, p. 534. They were held 1866-8
in the brick building on the W. side of Exhibition Road, which had been
the refreshment rooms for the International Exhibition 1862. The 1867
Exhibition was of 866 18th-century portraits, including 154 attributed to
Reynolds and 78 to Kneller. Many were thought ‘by no means qualified to
excite any great degree of interest’ {Art Journal^ 1867, p. 153). Photo-
graphs by Messrs Cundall of most pictures in the Exhibitions, together
NOTES TO JOURNAL 371
with the official catalogues, form a standard work of reference on national
portraits. For 1868 Exhibition see p. 395.
1 51. 2. lutes and mandolines: see note on the Museum below.
151. 3. : ‘spirals, coils’. GMH may have had in mind cAt/cc? errepoTr?}?
(Aesch. Prom. 1083), ‘flashes of forked lightning’.
151. 4. Museum. This visit seems to have been confined to the W. Cloisters
under the Schools of Art, where the metal-work and musical instruments
(see p. 237 and n.) were then housed. Loans to the museum were then
common (usually for 6 months), and the authorities took photographs of
loaned objects for instruction in the Schools of Art {Guide to the South
Kensington Museum, 1868, pp. 4, 31, 32). Celadon is a pale willow-green.
15a. I. Sia TO 7 r€<f)VKevaL: ‘through growth.’
15a. 2. For July 6 .. . light inserted from left-hand page of MS.
15a. 3. Brittany. There are various photographs in the Hopkins family
album, ‘Our Wander Book’, i, of Breton costume, St Pol de Leon Cathedral,
Chartres Cathedral, &c., dated Sept. 1867. The parents had also been in
Brittany in 1866, when by chance they met E. W. Urquhart {LL, iii. 29),
and from that earlier visit there are photographs of Dinan, Mont St
Michel, &c.
15a. 4. The chapel of the poor Clares: at the junction of Cornwall (now West-
bourne Park) Road and Ladbroke Grove, Notting Hill. They were the
second house of Poor Clares-Colettines (the reformed order) to be set up in
England, being invited by Manning from Bruges in Sept. 1857, as part of
Wiseman’s plan for the settlement of NW. London. As a contemplative
order Manning wanted them to pray for tlxe work of his Oblates of St
Charles, whom he had founded in July at St Mary of the Angels, Bays-
water, near by. (Information kindly supplied by the Convent of Poor
Glarcs-Colettines, Notting Hill.)
152. 5. my resolution. . . . See p. 164 and n. 8; and appx V,
153. I. Bovey Tracey. For map, showing places GMH visited, see p. 545. He
had been asked to join Pater this August in a reading-party at Sidmouth,
but did not go {LL, iii. 38, 40). ‘[Pater] lived in a little house overhanging
the sea, and I had lodgings in the town, going to him every morning with an
essay, or to hear him discourse on the Republic and the thousand subjects
suggested by it* (T. H. Ward, Brasenose Quatercentenary Monographs, xiv.
P. 75).
* 53 * 2. fJLop<f}r) fiia: ‘one form.’
* 53 * 3 * Miss Warren: Charlotte (b. 1798), who superintended and helped to
support the local parish school; her sister was Susannah (b. 1814), with
whom GMH went sketching to Bullaton Rocks, author of various works for
the SPCK, They lived at Hazelwood House, Hennock, 2 miles N. of Bovey
Tracey, and were two of the 13 children of the Revd Dawson Warren
(1770-1838), Vicar of Edmonton, Middlesex, author of The Parish Priest,
a translation of a Latin poem by John Burton. The Warrens knew the
Giberne family {LL, iii. 102); and in The Journal of a British Chaplain in
372
NOTES TO JOURNAL
Parisy Dawson Warren’s journal while attached to the Mission negotiating
peace in 1801-2 (ed. A. M, Broadley, 1913), is a charming sketch of the
Vicar and his family at Edmonton, 1830, by Maria Giberne, whose elder
brother later married GMH’s aunt, Maria Smith.
153. 4. her nephew : probably the Revd Frederic Warren ( 1 842-1930) , Fellow
of St John’s, Oxford 1864-82, liturgist and translator of the Sarum Missal.
He officiated several times at Hennock church during this period.
153. 5. Charles Lamb took Mary to Mr Walden’s, Church Street, Edmonton,
in the spring of 1833, and they lived there till his death in Dec. 1834. Letters
to Wordsworth and Mrs Hazlitt about Mary’s increasing derangertient
show the state of mind he was in (W. C. Hazlitt, Letters of Charles Lkmbj
ii. 405, 407). \
154. I. Baring-Gouldy Revd Sabine (1834-1924), who contributed the st6ry
to Henderson’s Notes on Folk Lore (below). Immensely prolific author of
tales, sermons, books of travel, folk-lore, topography; remembered now
only by his hymn ‘Onward, Christian Soldiers’. See W. E. Purcell’s
biography, Onward y Christian Soldier y 1957.
154. 2. The story . . . wounds inserted from left-hand page of MS.
154, 3. HendersorC s Folklore, Notes on the Folk Lore of the Northern
Counties of England and the Borders, By William Henderson. With an Ap-
pendix on Household Stories by S. Baring-Gk)uld. Longmans, 1866, The
story, given to the author by the Revd S. Baring-Gould and told in his
words, comes on p. 291. After the vision, the widow ‘was left in a state of
overwhelming joy’ and told the parish priest and some neighbours.
154. 4. Mr, Cleave: there were two men of this name living then in Bovey
Tracey, both carpenters.
154* 5. Ugbrooke: Ugbrooke Park, Chudleigh, the home of the Cliffords.
154. 6. Lord Clifford: Charles Hugh, 8th Baron (1819—80), eldest son of
Hugh Charles, 7th Baron, and by his mother a grandson of Cardinal
Weld, who had been married before taking orders. Educ. Stonyhurst.
Married Agnes, daughter of Ld Petre, 1845. Succeeded his father in 185B.
Brother of Fr Walter Clifford, SJ (see p. 438). His other brothers were
William, who became Bp of Clifton, and Henry Hugh, one of the earliest
winners of the VC. His eldest son played the chief part in re-establishing
Buckfast Abbey, and two of his daughters became nuns. For further
family details see Henry Cliffordy VCy his letters and sketches from the Crimea,
edited, with a Biographical Note, by Cuthbert Fitzherbert, 1956. For
GMH’s second visit to Ugbrooke in 1874, see pp. 253-4.
154. 7. Gappath: a hamlet and farm on the Ugbrooke estate, just W. of the
park. Spelt Gappah in ist (1888) and subsequent edns of OS 6^ map-
Derived from “goats* path”: but the only example of GMH’s spelling
given by the English Place-Name Society is in the Recovery Rolls, 1599
[Place-Names of DevoUy x. 479).
I55« I. The furze: probably the Dwarf Furze [Ulex gallii), which flowers in
late summer and autumn. The nibs are presumably the ‘keels*.
NOTES TO JOURNAL 373
X55. 2‘ church. The beautiful 15th-century church of St Pancras was
struck by lightning on 2 1 Oct. 1638 during a service ; a pinnacle fell through
the roof, killing four and injuring over 60; from Hopkins’s account it seems
damage was not completely made good until the church was restored in
1874. The fine embattled Western tower, 120 feet high, is similar to some of
earlier West Somerset ones : added during Elizabeth’s reign (tradition says
by successful tin-miners who wanted it to dominate), its sides certainly
project surprisingly far over W. windows of both aisles. The paintings on
wooden panels of Moses and Aaron, probably 1 7th century, are now in the
N. and S. transepts respectively. Rood-screen cut down to the dado-rail
before 1822: the piece that GMH saw must have come from (?)decayed
part above. Lower portion of screen remains, with good painted figures
of Saints, Apostles, and the four Latin Doctors.
155* 3- Manaton, The late 15th-century rood-screen of St Winifred’s was
not in fact restored until 1890. Ornamented with the Tudor rose and
fleur-de-lis. Of its panel-paintings, mainly of Saints, many have unfor-
tunately been defaced or moved.
155. 4. Becky Falls are in the wooded valley NW. of Bovey Tracey. Cf.
Coleridge: . .we were at the interesting Bovy Waterfall, through that
wild Dell of Ashes that leads to Ashburton, most like the approach to
Mattcrdalc from Keswick/’ (Note-book entry for 19 Oct. 1803, describing
his tour with Southey of Sept. 1 799 : The Notebooks of Samuel Taylor Coler-
idge^ ed. Kathleen Coburn, 1957, i, 1582).
155. 5. To the flower-show and industrial Exhibition^ : the annual show of the
Bovey Tracey Horticultural Society. ‘The most novel feature of the exhi-
bition was the Industrial and Art Loan Department. . . , The Bovey
Tracey Pottery Company exhibited some artistic illustrations of the art of
pottery, from raw material to finished wares. Mr J. S. Bearne, of Newton,
exhibited several specimens of glass, china, and other manufactures, in-
cluding some Parian statuary, Bohemian glass, Worcester china, and lava-
ware . . .’ (the Western Times 6 Sept. 1867). The dish of Palissy ware may
have been one of the numerous copies of Bernard Palissy’s work (charac-
teristically decorated with fish, shells, plants, &c.) produced in the mid
19th-century revival of old French faience. See also iii. 102.
*56* To the Harrises at Plumley: the house lies off the road to Moreton
Hampstead, about a mile outside Bovey Tracey. The family consisted of
William Harris and his wife Jane; their eldest son, William Augustus (at
Balliol: see LL, iii. 39 and n.); another son, Henry, who became Com-
mander, RN ; and at least two daughters, one of whom, Caroline, married
Urquhart in 1872 (see p. 323).
* 5 ®* 2. Pixies* Parlour', probably the cave near Ottcry St Mary loved by
Coleridge as a boy and the subject of a note affixed to Songs of the Pixies
in his first volume of poems :
‘At a small distance from a village . . . half-way up a wocH-cover’d hill,
is an excavation cfalled the Pixies’ Parlour. The roots of old trees form its
374
NOTES TO JOURNAL
ceiling, and on its sides are innumerable cyphers, among which the author
discovered his own cypher and those of his brothers, cut by the hand of
their childhood. ... To this place the Author conducted a party of young
ladies, during the Summer months of the year 1793 . . .* {Poems on Various
Occasions, ^79®).
3 the old church : the late 1 5th-century parish church of Bovey Tracey,
dedicated to SS Peter and Paul and St Thomas of Canterbury. Canon C. L,
Courtenay, Vicar 1849-97, had in 1853 built another church in the town,
St John the Evangelist’s, and in 1858 began the restorations to his parish
church which were carried on at intervals over the next 30 years. Tkc
carved and richly painted chancel-screen was restored in 1887. Its lowhr
panels show the 12 Apostles reciting sentences from the Creed, each at-
tended by a Prophet (for a full description and illustrations see F. B. Bond
and B. Camm, Roodscreens and Roodlofts, 1909, ii. 232 and 295). The main
motif of the bosses to the quatrefoils is the rose of Lady Margaret Beaufort,
the church’s chief founder ; but in the row at the bottom of the gate to the
sanctuary are two intricately worked grotesques, to which GMH may
refer. The elaborately carved and coloured stone pulpit (possibly earlier
than the screen) is decorated with figures of the four Evangelists and of
St Peter, St Edward the Confessor, St George, and St Margaret of Antioch.
It has been moved from the N. to the S. of the choir since GMH saw it.
156. 4* The Monros and Miss Bowies at Ingsdon, The house lies below Ingsdon
Hill, 3 to 4 miles S. of Bovey Tracey. Their host, Charles Hale Monro,
JP, died the following month, and 2 years later his son pulled down the
old manor-house and built the present stone mansion. The woodwork in
the porch, chair and fig-tree have long since vanished ; and the house is now
a Roman Catholic convent. The Miss Bowies were relations of Mrs Monro.
15^- 5- ^ Fresh! . . . chair. A note added on left-hand page of MS.
156. 6. the new House of Mercy by Woodyer. ‘The Devon House of Mercy for
the Reception of Fallen Women within the County’ was opened in Bovey
Tracey in 1863, under care of the Clewer Sisterhood. This larger house was
begun in 1865. Of grey stone with Gothic windows, it stands on rising
ground to the N. of the church, and has recently been turned into flats.
Henry Woodyer (1816-96) of Guildford, one of Butterfield’s very few
pupils, specialized in church architecture. Basil F. L. Clarke, Church
Builders of the Nineteenth Century, lists 13 new churches that he designed
GMH mentions two other of his works: St Raphael’s, Bristol (see p. 356);
and his restoration (under Butterfield) of the Lady Chapel at Ottcry St
Mary (see p. 3129) • One of his most important buildings was St Michael’s
Church and College at Tenbury, Worcs. (1886), fully described and
illustrated in The Life of the Rev, Sir F, A, G, Ouseley, by F. W. Joyce.
Goodhart-Rendel, English Architecture since the Regency, p. 120, calls it ‘a
highly original and picturesque work’, and describes his schools at Bislcy
and ^pley, Surrey, both built ‘to follow Ecclesiological prescriptions’, as
‘two of the most delightful that were built’ (p. 113). Francis Bumpus,
London Churches, ii. 294, picks out for special praise his ‘exquisite chapel
attached to All Saints’ Convalescent Home, Eastbourne, as ‘. . . withal very
NOTES TO JOURNAL 375
Stately, and . . . only another proof of how he could mould English Deco-
rated Gothic in his own fashion without allowing it to lose its own indi-
viduality*.
156. 7. Revd. Jacob Duchi\ his story is told in William Henderson’s Folklore
(see p. 372), p. 289. He was a chaplain in America during the War of
Independence, who dreamt, while crossing the Atlantic to rejoin his family,
that he found his wife lamenting the death of their son. He recorded it and
had it attested; and on arriving in Philadelphia, found that his son had
died at the very time of the dream. Henderson heard the story from Dawson
Warren, whose grand-daughter he had married.
156. 8. Bright^ William (1824-1901 ; see DNB) later became well known as
Regius Professor of Ecclesiastical History and Canon of Christ Church
from 1868, Educ. Rugby under Arnold. Sch. University College, Oxford.
1st Classics 1846. Fellow 1849. Apart from a short time at Glenalmond,
his whole life was spent in Oxford, and he died unmarried there. Several
of his works became standard Anglican textbooks of church history, and
he wrote many hymns, verses, and books of devotion. Was one of Liddon’s
closest friends and allies in all his work in Oxford in the Go’s; an active
senior member of both the Brotherhood of the Holy Trinity (sec p. 305)
and the Hexameron Essay Society (see p. 308) ; had many close friends
among the group of High Church undergraduates, whom he called ‘the
Faithful’, Helped to revise Liddon’s Bampton Lectures (see p. 349) for the
press. He did not know Hopkins very intimately, but had written a long
letter to Liddon on hearing the news of his conversion in 1866, (see LL. iii.
436). At the time of this meeting Bright was making a round of visits to
Oxford friends in Devon; he wrote on 14 Sept. 1867 : T have been spending
a week with Fred. Gurney and his wife at Torquay. The place is exquisite, I
think; and being with them is like breathing the sweetest air in the world.’
He does not mention meeting GMH; he went on to stay with Urquhart at
Bovey Tracey on 17 Sept., after GMH had left, and thence on the 20th to
stay with Charles Browne of Balliol (see p. 367) and his father at Court-
lands, Lympstone; the illness of both Coles and his father prevented his
going to Shepton Beauchamp (Liddon Papers) . When Pusey first greeted
Bright as Canon of Christ Church he said : ‘I have been here forty years,
and have never had anyone likeminded until now.’ And Bright added in
his Jounrnal: ‘What a pathos in this — and for me how great an honour!’
IS®* 9- Butterfield^s new church: All Saints’, Babbacombe, 2 miles N. of Tor-
quay. Begun Dec. 1865, and sufficiently complete to be consecrated by
Samuel Wilberforce on All Saints’ Day 1867, although the tower and
chancel were not added until 1873-4. Large and imposing from the out-
side, it has Butterfield’s typical and profuse decorations within: bands of
coloured Devonshire marble; encaustic tiles; an elaborate marble font. It
has remained in the Anglo-Catholic tradition. For GMH’s detailed descrip-
tion and sketches, on his second visit in Aug. 1874, see pp. 254-5.
* 57 * I. Mr Kenelm Vaughan, Kenelm David Francis Vaughan (1840-1909)
was the third of the eight sons of Col. John Francis Vaughan of Court-
held: brother of the Cardinal (see p. 419) and of Fr Bernard Vaughan
376 NOTES TO JOURNAL
(see p. 422). Educated at St Edmund’s College and, later, the French
Seminary in Rome. At the age of 16 he took the Cistercian habit at Mount
St Bernard’s Abbey, near Leicester, but had to relinquish it four years
later through ill health. Ordained by his uncle, the Bp of Plymouth
(see p. 438) 21 Sept. 1865. Mission-priest, Newton Abbot 1867-70; for
some time private secretary to Manning at Westminster; then travelled
for many years in South America, preaching and collecting money for the
austere Brotherhood of Expiation he had founded in Chelsea and, later, for
the Chapel of the Blessed Sacrament, Westminster Cathedral. He died 19
May 1909 at the House of Expiation, itatfield, which he had openedj two
years before. He devoted much of his life to popularizing the use olf the
Bible; and in 1873 published The Popular Use of the Bible encouraged h} the
Catholic Churchy after a controversy in which he had challenged the ^ite-
ment that the Catholic Church hindered its circulation. In no sense a public
figure, he impressed many, including his brother the Cardinal, as a man of
remarkable asceticism and saintliness. On 31 Dec. 1867 GMH wrote to
Urquhart: ‘In any case you wd. be thankful, I am sure, if you knew so
charming and good a man as Mr. Kenelm Vaughan. . . You wd. there see
an extraordinary devotion to the B. Sacrament’ (LL, iii. 49). He may well
have had an important influence on Hopkins’s decision about his vocation.
For full and vivid reminiscences of Kenelm Vaughan, with a photograph,
see A Papal Chamberlain, The Personal Chronicle of Francis Augustus MacNutU
Longmans, 1936. There are also accounts of him in Letters of Herbeil
Cardinal Vaughan to Lady Herbert of Lea^ ed. Shane Leslie, Intro., pp. xii-xiii;
and in Remembered in Blessing [memoirs of the Vaughan family], by a Mill
Hill Father, London, 1955, pp. 96-100.
157. 2. Mr Spenser'. Fr Thomas Spencer had celebrated the first Mass in the
new mission of St Joseph’s, Newton Abbot, the previous Whitsunday. He
was moved to Marnhull, Blandford, the following year.
157. 3. The Augustinian convent of Perpetual Adoration : the Canoncsscs bought
the estate of Abbotsleigh, above Langford Bridge, Newton Abbot, in i860
and took possession in 1861. Their church was consecrated two years later.
The order had been at Burnham Abbey, Bucks., until the Reformation:
it then moved to Louvain and returned to England 1794, after the French
Revolution.
157, 4. Canon Agar: William Seth Agar (1815-72), b. near York; educated
Prior Park, and ordained there 1842. Mission-priest at Lyme, Dorset
1845, but suffered from ill health, and acted as Chaplain to the Abbotsleigh
Convent from 1852 to his death. Canon of Plymouth 1856. He greatly
admired the Italian theologian and philosopher, Rosmini (i 797-1855), and
translated his Catholic Catechism . . .for the use of the Uninstructedy 1849, as well
as leaving in MS annotations on his worb. ‘Perhaps, hardly a priest in
England was more deeply versed in ascetical and mystical theology . • •
(Joseph Gillow).
157. 5. But this he told me about himself The story of Kenelm Vaughan’s cure
during Mass at St Augustine’s Priory, on the last day of a Novena (9 days
special prayers) in honour of St Winefride of Holywell, is told in Remembered
NOTES TO JOURNAL 377
in Blessing. The date is there given as 3 Nov. 1865, but the claim that water
fell on him, recorded by GMH, is not mentioned. His anxiety would have
been lest more than the amount of water allowed had fallen into the wine.
Stories about Kenelm Vaughan’s unworldliness and exuberant habits of
prayer are still told at St Augustine’s, where he was a regular visitor.
157. 6. I think . . . Shanklin inserted from left-hand page of MS.
J57. 7. To the Potteries: the workings of the Bovey Tracey Pottery Company
on the edge of the Heathfields, SE. of the town. The company had about
300 employees in 1866.
158. I. RednaL A small village about 8 miles SE. of Birmingham, towards
Bromsgrove. In 1854 Newman bought some ground there on one of the
Lickey Hills, and built a small house for the holidays and recreation of
the Oratorian community; a chapel was added in 1857, and the house
has since been enlarged. There is also a community burial-ground, and
Newman himself is buried there. His MS diary has under date Monday
9 Sept. 1867: ‘Went to Rednall by brougham with luggage.’ No entry of
return on 14th; but under Monday 16 Sept, comes: ‘Alterations at burying
ground began at Rednall. Went out to Rednall’ (the Oratory, Birming-
ham MSS.).
158- 2. Wood ... all was over. For Alexander Wood, a fellow convert of Oct.
1866, see p. 321. There is no clue as to what this letter was about.
158. 3. Mr Brookes'* reception. Newman’s MS diary, Thursday 3 Oct. 1867:
‘Mr S. Brookes came to be received.’ No entry of his reception on 13th; but
under Wednesday i6th, ‘Mr S. Brookes left yesterday or today.’ He is not
in Gorman’s Converts to Rome.
158. 4. But I have the following notes and entries from 17 Oct. to 4 Nov, in-
serted from left-hand page of MS.
*58* 5- I began . . . tired is a note on left-hand page of MS, written below a
gap following entry for 4 Nov.
158. 6. my school work. . . . Hopkins taught at the Oratory School, Birming-
ham (founded by Newman 1859), for two terms, and left at Easter 1868.
For a description of his life there, see letter to Urquhart of 30 Sept. 1867
{LL, hi. 43-44). The fifth was the top form and had only five boys; Bellasis
and Sparrow (see notes below) were the private pupils he told Urquhart
about.
>^58. 7. Sparrow^ William John, b. 1850, son of John Sparrow, JP, of Black-
burn. At the Oratory School 1863-74. BA and LLD London. Barrister
Lincoln’s Inn 1878. Practised in Liverpool. Later took great interest in
education: a member for 14 years of Liverpool School Board; Vice-
President, Liverpool Voluntary Schools’ Assen.
*58. 8. Bellasis y Richard Garnett, b. 1849, eldest son of Edward Bellasis,
Serjeant-at-Law, the intimate friend to whom Newman dedicated the
Grammar of Assent. First boy to arrive at the Oratory School, when Newman
founded it in 1859. BA London. Barrister. Ordained as a Priest of the
378 NOTES TO JOURNAL
Binningham Oratory 1879. GMH sent him his remembrances via Baillie
in Dec. 1872 (LL, iii. 239).
I 5 ». 9 - Challis, Henry William (1841-98), son of H. W. Challis of Brixton
(clerk in the Bank of England and very probably the regular contributor of
that name to Bentleys Miscellany in the late 1830’s, as ‘Joyce Jocund’),
Merchant Taylors’ School. Postmaster, Merton 1859. ist Maths Mods
1861; and Maths Finals and BA 1863. Mentioned as one of the three
‘chief mathematicians of the present year’ in William Bright’s Journal,
Mar. 1863. Member of the BHT 1863. Seceded to Church of R^me
July 1866. Did not teach at the Oratory School long, but went to Loftidon
and became joint editor, Westminster Review. Published A letter to John
Stuart Mill ... on The Necessity of Geometry and the Association of Ideas, 1^^,
Left the Catholic Church Mar. 1872 (see p. 218). Joined Inner Temple
1873; called to Bar 1876. Co-author, with H. J. Hood (see p, 324), of The
Conveyancing Acts, 1881 and 1882, and The Settled Land Acts, 1882 and 1884.
Their revision, which he wrote alone, became the classic Law of Real
Property, 1885 (Preface dated from 2 Stone Buildings, Lincoln’s Inn). Challis
occurs mainly in Hopkins’s letters of 1867; ‘after many years’ silence’,
he sent GMH in Dec. 1881 a copy of an article he had published that
November in the Contemporary Review, ‘On Language as the Vehicle of
Though^t’ {LL, iii. 161 and n.).
158. 10, Stokes, John Scott, son of Charles and nephew of Scott Nasmyth
Stokes (Chief Inspector of Schools 1871), both of whom were at Trinity,
Cambridge and converts to Rome. John was educ. Oratory School, taught
there temporarily, and later made a career in the Post Office. For weekly
‘journal’ he edited during Lent term 1868, containing GMH’s The Elope-
ment {Poems, p. 288), and a parody by Bellasis and Sparrow (above), see
note supplied by Fr D. A. Bischoff, Poems, p. 293.
159. I. Redington, Christopher Thomas Talbot, b. 1847, eldest son of Sir
Thomas Redington of Dublin. Christ Church 1864. 2nd Mods 1866; 1st
Greats 1868. BA 1869. High Sheriff, Kilcornan, co. Galway 1873. Became
a Senator of Royal University of Ireland.
159. 2. the class list. Apart from Bridges, only Garrett (see p. 352) was a close
friend. The only others mentioned elsewhere in the Diaries or Journals
are Case (see p. 345), Fyffe (see p. 325), Wharton (see p. 340), and Stocks
(see p. 351). Of the remainder, two were members of the Hexameron at
the same time as GMH: John Gent (1844-1927; J’ellow of Trinity 1869-
86; barrister; County Court Judge 1906-19) and W. G. F. Phillimore
(1845-1929; Fellow of All Souls 1867-71 ; barrister; Judge, Q,.B. Division
1897; Lord Justice 1913-16. President, English Church Union. Created
1st Baron Phillimore 1918).
159. 3. Bridges. On 12 Nov. GMH had written to RB from the Oratory:
‘I wish I knew exactly when you are in the schools. A 2nd is the class I
have always imagined you wd. get: mind it is a good one’ {LL, i. 20) •
Although there are only two references to him in Hopkins’s undergraduate
Diaries (both among the spiritual notes in G. II), they are quite revealing’
NOTES TO JOURNAL 379
‘Nothing read, not very culpable perhaps, but chiefly through going to
Bridges in the evening* (30 Apr. 1865); and ‘Foolish gossipy way with
Bridges* (10 Dec. 1865).
159 . 4. O' Hanlon's suicide. Hugh Francis 0*Hanlon (1842-67), son of Hugh
O’Hanlon. Tonbridge 1856-61; Sch. BNC; ist Mods and Greats; BA
1865. Fellow of Lincoln and student of the Inner Temple. Published, 1866,
a pamphlet, A Criticism of jf, S. Mill's Pure Idealism. He shot himself in his
lodgings, 8 Nov. 1867.
159 . 5. two Expositions of the B. Sacrament. The exposition of the Blessed
Sacrament is a practice dating from the i6th century. The introduction of
the devotion of ‘Forty Hours* (in honour of the forty hours Our Lord spent
in the tomb) was approved by Pius IV in 1560. In 1592 Clement VIII
provided for the public and perpetual adoration of the Blessed Sacrament
on the altars of different churches in Rome. The forty hours in one church
succeeded those in another.
There are two relevant entries in Newman*s short MS diary for Dec.
1867. The first reads: Dec. ist, Sunday, ‘Exposition today and two fol-
lowing days for the Pope’s troubles’. The second, on Saturday 14th, has:
‘Quarant’ Ore begun*. It is clear that there were two Expositions, a special
one, presumably at the wish of the Bp, and the ‘Forty Hours’ which was
held annually in the Oratory churches during these years. Shortly after
this year (1867), Bp Ullathorne stopped the ‘Forty Hours* devotion in his
diocese, presumably because the churches could not carry it out properly.
159. 6. Monday Popular, ‘monday popular concerts, St. James’s Hall.
Monday Evening, January 6, at Eight, the Programme will include
Beethoven’s Quartet in E minor. Op. 59; Schubert’s Sonata in A minor.
Op. 42, for piano alone; Prelude, Courante, and Allemande, by Bach, for
Violoncello alone, &c. Executants, MM. Charles Halle, Strauss, L. Ries,
Henry Blagrove and Piatti. Vocalist, Mr. Santley. Conductor, Mr.
Benedict. Sofa Stalls, 5s.; Balcony, 3s.; Admission, is.* (Advt.) When in
The Mikado (1885) Gilbert condemned the musical-hall singer to the
fitting punishment of attending the ‘classical Monday Pops’, they were not
topically novel. A summarizing article on the enterprise to this date
(organized by S. Arthur Chappell) was in the Saturday Review^ 28 Mar.
1868.
*59* 7* To Crystal Palace. . . . ‘The Beni Zoug-Zoug Arabs will appear in
their marvellous and daring performances. A Desert Scene has been
specially painted by Messrs. Danson &: Sons for this entertainment. The
Performances of Mile. Frederica & M. Elliot (the Champion Skaters) —
an exceedingly graceful entertainment. . . . Entry is.* (Advt. for the
Crystal Palace ‘Christmas holyday amusements’, The Times^ 8 Jan. 1868.)
*59« 8, Uncle John. John Simm Smith (1831-1917), eldest son of Dr John
Sitnm Smith; GMH’s maternal uncle. Educated Rugby; Pensioner,
Trinity, Cambridge 1850. 32nd Senior Optime 1854. He was an actuary
Ri Liverpool, then retired in 1876 to Bramley Hill, Croydon, where he was
Churchwarden of St Peter’s Church for 40 years. He did not marry. ‘A
38 o notes to journal
strong and consistent Churchman ... his time and means were given with
unfailing readiness to all parish enterprises. ... In politics he had decided
opinions. The Primrose League had in him a staunch friend, and of the
Conservative and Unionist cause he was a loyal supporter* {Croydon
Advertiser, 13 Oct. 1917).
159*9. Uncle Edward. Edward Smith (1833-1900), second son of Dr John
Simm Smith. Pensioner, Peterhouse, Cambridge 1852, where he was an
intimate friend of A. W. Ward who — probably through him — came to
know GMH quite well (letter of A. W. Ward to Edward Smith on GMH’s
death in Fam. Papers). 3rd Classical Tripos 1857; BA 1858. Called tbPar,
Inner Temple 1859. Pleader on Home Circuit and Surrey Sessions; but
did not practise long and soon made painting his profession. Spent much of
his time in 70’s in Capri and Rome. He was a prolific water-colourist.
First picture in RA is given as ‘Afternoon: forest of Gombo, near Pisa’
(RA Cat. 1874) ; Graves lists 8 pictures between 1886 and 1898 (but under
Edward Blount Smith) : one is of Capri.
His club in 1889 was the United University, which in 1868 was in Pall
Mall East.
159. 10. Wigan^s theatre to see Dearer than Life, ‘the new queen’s theatre
ROYAL, Longacre. — Lessee & Manager, Mr. Alfred Wigan . . . the per-
formances will commence at 7 with he’s a lunatic. After which, at half-
past 7 . . ., a new & original serio-comic drama, in three acts, entitled
dearer than life (written by Henry J. Byron, author of “War to the
Knife”, “A Hundred Thousand Pounds”, “Aladdin”, etc.) ... To con-
clude with Mr. John Hollingshead’s laughable farce of the birthplace of
PODGERs’ (Advt. The Times, 8 Jan. 1868). H. J. Byron (1834-84), actor,
theatre-manager, and author of innumerable successful plays, extrava-
ganzas, and burlesques.
159. 1 1 . Bridges and Muir head sailed : to Egypt and Syria {LL, i. 20-2 1 and
Abbott’s note).
160. I. To Edgmond to Aunt Laura's: Laura Smith, one of Mrs Manley
Hopkins’s younger sisters, had married Edward Hodges, of Edgmond Hall,
near Newport, Shropshire. GMH refers twice to her in letters to his mother
{LL, iii. 1 06, 1 1 7) . She died in 1 879. Some time before 1 895 Edward Hodges
moved to The Manor House, Edgmond. He may have been a cousin of
Laura Smith’s through her grandfather Edward Hodges : but there is no
evidence that he belonged to that family.
i6o« 2. On this day .... he? inserted from left-hand page of MS.
i6o. 3. Mildred: GMH’s 3^ year-old cousin, daughter of Edward and Laura
Hodges. She appears in Kate Hopkins’s address-book (Fam. Papers) as
living unmarried in The Red Cottage, Edgmond, in or after 1920. Mabel,
her elder sister, was probably the ‘Miss Hodges’ living in Granville Avenue,
Newport, same date. From extant family photographs there seem to have
been four younger Hodges children: a son and three daughters.
x6o. 4. Lilleshall Abbey was a regular family place of excursion
Edgmond Hall. Four photographs of it exist in ‘Our Wander-Book*, vol. h
NOTES TO JOURNAL 381
dated 1865, showing the Norman S. door, the Norman W. door, &c.
Almost identical views of the ruins in the same overgrown condition can be
seen in Abbeys by M. R. James (GWR, 1925). The Arroasian Canons,
named from Arouaise near Bapaume, were later absorbed into the order
of the Augustinian Canons.
161. I. To an instrument concert. No clue in Newman’s MS diary; but cf.
‘Today I have been hearing a quartet on violins and violincello by the
music master, one of my p.p.s, one of my fifth form boys, and Dr. Newman’
(30 Sept. 1867: Z.L, hi. 44).
162. I. Selly Oak. Sisters of Charity of St Paul the Apostle, first invited to
England by Wiseman 1847, and established at Banbury. Bought Manor
House and grounds at Sclly Oak and moved the Mother House (including
the Novitiate) there in 1864. The red-brick, flat-fronted house, with a small
pediment, has acquired large Gothic additions since Hopkins’s visit. The
order is practical, devoted to education of children and to nursing.
162. 2. Some evening . . . milk inserted from left-hand page of MS. Below, the
sketch illustrating it ; and above, sketch of the new moon and Venus.
162. 3. Chervil, From the time of year this must be the wild species (more
usually, cow parsley or keck), Anthriscus sylvestris, the ‘fretty chervil* of the
sonnet Thou art indeed just, Lord. See Geoffrey Grigson, GMH (British
Council Bibliog. Series), 1955, p. 24.
163, I. Mr Plow*s murder. Robert Bridges’s sister, Harriet Louisa, had mar-
ried the Revd Antony John Plow, Vicar of Todmorden, Lancs. {LL, i. 23
and n.). Mr and Mrs Plow and their newborn infant were brutally attacked
with a hatchet on the night of 2 Mar. 1868 by the lover of a servant-girl
whom they had dismissed after his visits to her. Mr Plow and the baby died
on 12 Mar.; and the murderer, Miles Wetherall, was sentenced to death
at Manchester the next day. Mr Justice Lush described the outrage as
almost without parallel in the annals of crime. Mrs Plow recovered from
her wounds, but died a year later (see p. 190, and LL, i. 25).
163, 2. The retreat. Probably that for old boys of the school normal in Roman
Catholic schools during Holy Week.
163. 3. Coleridge, Henry James (1822-93; see DNB), second son of Sir John
Taylor Coleridge; younger brother of J. D. Coleridge (see p. 416). Eton
and Trinity, Oxford; ist Classics 1844; Fellow of Oriel 1845. Anglican
Deacon 1&49, curate of chapel-of-ease, Alphington, nr Exeter. For con-
scientious reasons would not take Priest’s orders, resigned curacy 22 Feb.
1852, and was received into Roman Church the same year. His father,
encouraged by Keble, wished to retire from the Bench, take Orders, and
serve the Alphington cure to testify his loyalty to the Church of England,
8ut was dissuaded. HJC studied theology in Rome. Priest 1855. Jesuit
Novice 1857. After probation taught at St Beuno’s. After a family reunion
in 1863, his brother wrote: ‘The more I see and hear of the Jesuits, the
more I am struck with their general superiority and freedom from non-
sense. I always did rejoice that if my brother must be a R.G., and must
be in an order, he chose the Jesuit order rather than any more modem
382 NOTES TO JOURNAL
one . . • - '(E* Coleridge, Life & Correspondence of John Duke, Lord Cole-
ridge, i. 95, 195-6, ii. 1 21). In 1865 me became first Jesuit editor of The
Month, bought by the Society from its founder Miss F. M. Taylor (see
note on Fr Weld, p. 384), and held office till 1881. His friendship with
Newman involved much correspondence (see Ward, Life of Newman) and
visits to Birmingham Oratory: The Month first published The Dream of
Gerontius in Apr. and May 1865, The following account of Coleridge’s
rejection for The Month of GMH’s Wreck of the Deutschland was sent to
Humphry House by Mgr J. M. T. Barton in a letter dated 23 June 1944:
‘The facts, as told to me by my old and dear friend the late Fr. Sydney
Fenn Smith, S.J. [1842-1922], were these. The editor at that time was Fr.
Henry Coleridge, a convert clergyman and a scholar of the old-fashiclyied
classical type. He read the poem and could not understand it, and he did
not relish publishing any poem that he himself could not master. He then
handed the poem to Sydney Smith who did his best to master the author’s
elaborate system of diacritical signs. But it was not of any service to him.
He told me that the short line (Stanza 30, 1. 4) “Thou hadst glory of this
nun?” was one that he read and read again, without ever being sure that
he was reading it with the exact rhythm desired by G.M.H. In the end, as
he said to me, “the only result was to give me a very bad headache, and to
lead me to hand the poem back to Fr. Coleridge with the remark that it
was indeed unreadable”. . . . This conversation may well have been in
1918 or 1919, after the publication of the Poems'
After resigning the editorship Coleridge gave himself entirely to his
books, of which the chief were The Public Life of Our Lord (12 vols), The
Life of our Life, Passiontide, The Life and Letters of St Francis Xavier, The Life
and Letters of St Theresa. He projected, edited, and contributed many
volumes to The Quarterly Series. Died 13 Apr. 1893 at Manresa House:
buried in the family vault at Ottery.
164. I . our conversazione. The Hampstead Conversazione Society was founded
1846 and lasted till 1872. The original object was ‘that the Gentlemen
and Ladies of Hampstead may assemble for the promotion of intellectual
amusements, and to render the Fine Arts, and a knowledge of Scientific
researches, more general sources of interest, conversation and pleasure in
daily life’. In the early days there was rather more emphasis on the Science
than later, when the main activity was to hold loan exhibitions of pictures
by ‘living artists of the first rank’. Ruskin, Samuel Rogers (whose nephew
H. Sharpe was a Hampstead resident), and Clarkson Stanfield Were among
the early supporters. There were usually four meetings each winter, at
about monthly intervals, held in the Assembly Rooms (now known as
Romney’s House) at or about 8 in the evenings. Refreshments were sup-
plied from the Holly Bush Inn next door, which was owned by the Trustees
of the Assembly Rooms. On the evening following the meeting of the mem-
bers (who paid a subscription of from i to 3 gns. a year), the exhibitions
were open to the public by tickets obtainable from members, when guides
and informal lecturers were present. The Society thus became an agency
of Adult Education. See The Hampstead Annual, 1900, pp. 139-445
Potter, Random Recollections of Hampstead, 1907, pp. 56-57; T. J. Barratt,
NOTES TO JOURNAL 383
Annals of Hampstead, 1912, ii. 17; Edith Sichel, Life and Letters of Alfred
Ainger, p. 8. The Books and Minutes of the Society have not been traced.
164. 2. Pinwell, George John (1842-75; see DNB), began career with
black-and-white illustration for the Brothers Dalziel; GMH would have
been familiar with his work in Once a Week, First exhibited in water-colour
1865. In Water-Colour Society Exhibition 1869 were two pictures from
Browning’s ‘Pied Piper’, ‘Children’ and ‘Rats’, praised in J. L. Roget,
History of the Old Water-Colour Society, p. 397. It was almost certainly one of
these which GMH saw, (The Tate has a study of Pin well’s for ‘The Pied
Piper of Hamelin: The Children’, exhibited WS 1871.) Pinwell died of
consumption at Warwick House, Adelaide Road, Haverstock Hill, and his
connexion with the Hampstead Society may have been a local one.
164. 3. Dalziel, Edward (1817-1905; see DNB) was mainly involved all his
life in the work of the famous wood-engraving firm, publishers also of
illustrated books; but in leisure painted in both oil and water-colour;
exhibited occasionally at RA. See E. and G. Dalziel, The Brothers Dalziel
(1901); Gleeson White, English Illustration: The Sixties (1897).
164* 4. Ap, I’j, 1868 is the opening entry in the 3rd of the Journal note-
books.
164. 5. To the French and Flemish, The Exhibition of French and Flemish
Pictures (15th season), 120 Pall Mall, under H. Wallis.
164. 6. Bischoffis almost certainly Ghristoffel Bisschop (1828-1904), Dutch
landscapist and genre painter, whose pictures in the Exhibition of British
and Foreign Artists (same Gallery) the following December the Art
Journal picked out for special notice. He ‘gains fine and rare qualities of
colour’, its reviewer wrote, and found analogies with ‘the colour of
Rembrandt and his school’. Only one picture, ‘Charity’, is mentioned by
name. Bisschop painted chiefly in The Hague and Friesland and married
an English pupil, Kate Swift. For discussions of his work see Art Journal,
1892, pp. 21 1-14, and Muther, iv. 94 (illustration at i. 89).
164. 7. To Roehampton into retreat. For the house of the Jesuit Novitiate at
Roehampton, see p. 401. This would have been a private retreat arranged
by GMH in order to help him to determine his vocation; no such retreat
would have been required of him before acceptance as a Jesuit Novice.
During it some of his most important decisions were taken.
*64* 8- This day, I think, I resolved', almost certainly the resolution to destroy
bis poems, if he became a priest. Sec appx V.
*65. I . still doubtful between St, Benedict and St, Ignatius, GMH had spent Holy
Week and Easter the previous year with the Benedictines at Belmont
Abbey, near Hereford, and had found it ‘a delightful place in every way’
{LL, iii. jje had first visited the Abbey with Addis, 20 June 1866 (see
P* 141). For Newman’s letter when he decided to become a Jesuit, see LL,
bi. 408.
2. Slaughter of the innocents: almost certainly the burning of his poems,
appx V.
384 NOTES TO JOURNAL
x65, 3. Met F, Nichols: the Revd David C. Nicols, Oblate of St Charles. He
became mission-priest at St Charles Borromeo, Marylebone this year.
Afterwards at St Joseph’s College, Mill Hill.
165. 4. F. Weld. Alfred Weld (1823-90) was at this time Provincial of the
English Province of the Society of Jesus. Hopkins’s interview was to apply
for admission as a Novice; Weld’s acceptance was received on 30 May
(see p. 166). The interviewing of candidates by four experienced Fathers
(see appx VI) is more a formal matter to satisfy the requirements of Canon
Law, and to see whether there are from the Society’s point of vievy any
obvious obstacles to acceptance, than an exploration of mind and pensona-
lity. On these the decision rests with the Provincial, guided by what
advice he may seek. In Hopkins’s case Fr Weld might well have consulted
Fr Henry Coleridge, for instance, who knew him already (see p. 381). ^he
interview was probably in Hill Street, Berkeley Square, which was then the
address of the Jesuit House serving Farm Street Church.
Fr Weld, son of George Weld of Leagram, Lancs., belonged to a branch
of the well-known old Catholic family; three of his sisters were Nuns.
Educ. Stonyhurst. Novice 1842. BA London 1844. Professor of Science,
Director of the Observatory, and Prefect of Philosophers at Stonyhurst.
Priest 1854. As Superior of St Mary’s Hall, 1857, obtained recognition of
Stonyhurst as a Meteorological Station. Fellow, Royal Astronomical
Society. Becoming Novice Master in 1 860, he played an important part in
the development of the buildings and grounds at Roehampton, and put his
Novices hard to work in the grounds. Provincial 1864-70, after much
hesitation because of his youth. The General said to liim : ‘Nemo despiciat
juventutem tuam.’ Initiated, and contributed much to, Letters and Notices,
the private periodical of the Province (see Preface, p. xxiv) ; and his Obituary
Notice appears in the same volume of it as tliat of the poet he accepted.
‘At his instance, or with his sanction’, the periodical The Month was
bought by the Society (see p. 382). He had the idea of forming a house or
community of writers, and thus gave Fr Coleridge his chance. He was later
Rector of St Beuno’s, where he enlarged the buildings, and then, 1873-83,
Assistant to the General of the Society in Rome for the English group ol
Provinces. In 1883 he went as Superior General to the Zambesi Mission,
which he had done much to found and foster. He was described as of an
‘ardent, gay, guileless dispK)sition’.
165. 5. Croydon: the cutting up .. . Part of the Blunt House property, the home
of GMH’s Smith grandparents, was sold as budding-plots that year (see
p. 362).
165. 6. Cardinal d* Andrea, who had long been in ill health, died suddenly i"
Rome during the night of 1 5 May. His liberal views and his quarrel with
the Pope and the Cuna were well known. The Times correspondent at
Florence certainly made no attempt to disguise the ugly rumours going
about: it ‘will have caused a great sensation and given rise to many con-
jectures and suspicions’, he wrote. ‘. . . All I can positively tell you is t a
he did not consider himself altogether safe in the Papal capital. ^
Saturday Review (30 May, p. 709) gave no countenance to such stories.
NOTES TO JOURNAL 385
‘We need hardly say that we attach no importance to the current on dit
of the Italian newspapers that the Caurdinal was poisoned by the Jesuits’;
but attacked his being kept in Rome against his doctors* advice as an
extreme example of papal autocracy.
165. 7. Mollia et ventosa flagella^ not traced as a quotation from any Latin
author; possibly Hopkins’s own phrase deriving from Virgil, G. ii. 299, and
Servius’s gloss on the passage: * Flagella dicuntur summae arborum partes,
ab eo quod crebros ventorum sustinent flatus.’ For GMH’s admiration of
Servius, see LL, iii. 204.
165. 8. a drawing: not in the note-book.
166. I. The Hodges came up: almost certainly Edward and Laura Hodges, of
Edgmond, Shropshire: see p. 380.
166. 2. Henry Leslie's Concert . . . .* ‘mr henry Leslie’s choir. — May 27th. —
THIS EVENING, St. James’s-hall, 8 o’clock. Soloists — Miss Edith Wynne,
Mme. Patey-Whytock, Mr. Sims Reeves, Signor Gustave Garcia, and
Mr. Charles Hall(§ . . . Mr. sims reeves will sing Beethoven’s “Adelaida”
(accompanied by Mr. Charles Hall6), “Come into the garden, Maud”
and “Tom Bowling” . . . Tickets 6s., 3s., 2s., is.’ (Advt, The Tunes, 27
May 1868). John Sims Reeves (1818-1900) was the leading English tenor.
Halle, whose orchestra had been established in Manchester since 1858,
continued to give his Pianoforte Recitals in London and to play frequently
at the ‘Monday Populars’ (see p. 379).
i66. 3. Solomon, Simeon (1840-1905; see DNB), the painter, then at the
height of his brief period of fame. Friend and disciple of D. G. Rossetti and
Burne-Jones, he had already exhibited nine pictures at RA, mostly Scrip-
tural and strongly Pre-Raphaelite. After a visit to Italy, had turned to
pagan subjects, and later was one of those attacked in Robert Buchanan’s
article, ‘The Fleshly School of Poetry’, in the Contemporary Review, 1871.
Became friend of both Swinburne (with whom GMH seems to have met
him) and Pater, whose portrait he painted ; and his work became particu-
larly fashionable at Oxford. His career collapsed after a prison sentence in
1B73, and he lived the rest of his life in acute poverty. Most of his work is
in private collections: but A Greek Acolyte is in Birmingham Art Gallery,
and one picture in the Victoria and Albert Museum. In the Go’s he was
clearly an attractive figure, and he appears in many Pre-Raphaelite
memoirs.
166. 4. F. Weld's acceptance: of GMH as a Novice SJ. See p. 165 (entry for
19 May) and n.
166. 5. Mrs, Fred, Gurney's death, Frederick Gurney (see p. 295) had married
Alice, daughter of the late John Dcffell of Calcutta. William Bright had
written to Liddon on 14 Sept. 1867: ‘I am anxious about her: she is sadly
delicate : one lung is quite gone’ (Liddon Papers) . She died aged 24. GMH
wrote to Urquhart : ‘Gurney can remember that he has had some years of
^orc happiness than most p>cople are blest with : Mrs. Gurney was a sweet
person and except that no children were bom everything seemed to go well
until now’ {LL, iii. 50).
B 082 S
cc
386 NOTES TO JOURNAL
166. 6. Architectural Exhibition: eighteenth year, held in Conduit Street. The
Art Journal^ }M\y 1868, p. 128, noticed ‘signs of renewed vitality*. Competi-
tion-designs included the Barry and Pugin rival drawings for Houses of
Parliament, besides those for Manchester New Town Hall, won by Water-
house. There was also a good collection of French drawings. ‘M. Lameirc
has favoured the exhibition with the series of architectonic yet decorative
designs which obtained a gold medal in the Paris Exhibition. They set
forth, in glory of colour and high elaboration of detail, the internal decora-
tion suited to a church in the Byzantine style. As a study of polychrome
alone, these works merit observation. They recall the rich inter^^rs of
Venice, Ravenna, and Palermo.’ For Burges see p. 335 : he designed i^uch
jewellery and furniture. For Moore as a decorative painter, see p. 388.'
166. 7. Lameire, Charles Joseph (1832--1910), French decorative paiiiter.
His chief work is in the Cathedrals of P6rigueux and Moulins ; and, in
Paris, in the Greek Orthodox church, the church of St Fran^ois-Xavier, and
the banqueting-hall of the Trocadero. Besides working in other churches,
he designed the mosaics in the choir of the Madeleine.
166. 8. Frederica's .... cither inserted from left-hand page of MS.
166. 9. the little book. See p. 391 (n. 169. 2).
167. I. Papa has succeeded in winding up Mrs. Thwaites' affairs . . . : see p. 369.
Manley Hopkins was not personally involved in Mrs Thwaytes’s will : his
aid was presumably invoked by his father-in-law. Mr. Hewitt had acted for
Mrs Tebbitt’s two children in the Probate case.
167. 2. Mason, George Hcming, ARA (1818-72; see DNB). Travelled to
Rome, mostly on foot 1843-5; lived and painted there for next 13 years;
returned and settled in Whitby 1858. Became one of group of ‘idyllic’
painters under Frederick Walker’s leadership (see p. 387). G. P. Boyce
(see p. 359) records Mason’s painting the ‘Evening Hymn’: ‘March 31.
Galled on George Mason at Hammersmith, whom I found painting on his
big picture (sold for £7 or 800) of girls singing in the twilight, very beautiful’
{Diary, 1867). At Manchester Royal Institution 1868, it was awarded the
prize over Walker’s ‘Vagrants’. Bought by Col. Guy Wyndhamandin
1946 presented to the Ramsbury Village Hall, Wilts. For a highly-coloured
description of it, see Muther, iii. 145. In ‘Mr. Mason’s Collected Works’,
Portfolio, 1873, iv. 40-43, G. A. Simcox praised this picture and
‘The Harvest Moon’ as his finest paintings. Also in RA 1868 was his
‘Wetley Moor’; and in RA 1866 GMH would have seen ‘Yarrow’, based
on Wordsworth’s ‘Swan on still St. Mary’s Lake’, and ‘The Young
Anglers’. His picture ‘The Cast Shoe* is in the Tate. See also p. 237.
167. 3. Millais, Sir John Everett (1829-96; President RA 1896; sec DM
and J. G. Millais, Ltfe and Letters . . . [1899], referred to here and on pp. 43
2 as Life). GMH knew and admired Millais early; was familiar with his
black-and-white work in Once a Week {vom 1859; by early 1862 was forming
his initials into an imitation of Millais’s monogram (see plates i and 2). 1 *^
Once a Week (viii. 2 lO-i 1,14 Feb. 1863) an illustration by Millais to Harriet
Martineau’s ‘The Hampdcns’ faced Winter with the Gulf Stream, In RA
NOTES TO JOURNAL 387
GMH saw ‘The Eve of St Agnes’, ‘The Wolf’s Den’, and ‘My first Sermon’,
and called Millais ‘the greatest English painter, one of the greatest of the
world’ {LLy hi. 201). Of these pictures in RA 1868 (i) ‘Sisters’ was a
portrait of Millais’s daughters, Life^ ii. 19; (ii) ‘Stella’ is in Manchester
City Gallery, reproduced Handbook^ ed. Phythian, 1910; (hi) ‘Rosalind
and Celia’, illustrating AYLI, ii. iv. i-io, is described and reproduced
life, h. 2-3: the background done in Knole Park; (iv) ‘Pilgrims to St
Paul’s’ had quotation in Catalogue from Canning’s ‘Ulm and Trafalgar,
1 806’, ‘ before that hallow’d tomb / . . . Frequent in solemn pilgrimage
they stand’, yet showed only two Greenwich Pensioners viewing Nelson’s
tomb by lamplight: reproduced. Life, i. 413; (v) ‘Souvenir of Velasquez’,
as a Diploma work, is in RA permanent collection. For discussion of Millais
pictures in RA 1874, see pp. 244-5 and n. In 1881 GMH expressed great
admiration of ‘The Order of Release’ and ‘The Proscribed Royalist’,
disapproval of ‘The Black Brunswicker’ (LL, i. 132). For Arthur Hopkins
on Millais, see p. 304.
167. 4. Leighton (for main note seep. 361) had five pictures in this exhibition;
No. 227 ‘Jonathan’s token to David’; 234 ‘Mrs. Frederick P. Cockerell’;
328 ‘Ariadne* (full title: ‘Ariadne abandoned by Theseus. Ariadne watches
for his return; Artemis releases her by death’) ; 449 ‘Acme and Septimius’
(illustrating Catullus: ‘Acmen Septimius suos amores’); and 522 ‘Actaea*.
In J^otes on the Royal Academy Exhibition, 1868. Pt. i, by W. M. Rossetti;
Pt. ii, by A. C. Swinburne (referred to after as Notes), Rossetti pronounced
‘Ariadne’ ‘the loftiest work Mr. Leighton has produced’ {Notes, i. 12).
Swinburne found only ‘watery Hellenism’ in her; and, in the naked
‘Actaea’, ‘not the fresh sweet strength of limbs native to the sea, but the
lower loveliness of limbs that have been steamed and scraped’ {Notes,
ii- 32-33). ‘Jonathan’ he singled out for praise (p. 33).
167.5. Walker, Frederick ( 1 840-75 ; secDNB), was one of the contemporary
painters for whom Hopkins had the greatest admiration. In a long dis-
cussion and praise of his work in 1886 {LL, ii. 133-5) he called his genius
‘amazing .... The sense of beauty was so exquisite; it was to other painters’
work as poetry is to prose : his loss was irretrievable.’ Walker is often spoken
of as the leader of a group of ‘idyllic’ painters, including George Mason
and J. W. North. ‘Vagrants’, a large oil, is now in the Tate, No. 1209,
bought 1886; reproduced in J. G. Marks, Life and Letters of Frederick
Walker, p. no. An early version of its theme had appeared in Once a Week
(woodcut by Swain) 27 Jan. 1866. See also Muther, iii. 146-55. Walker,
who provided the basis for Little Billce in Trilby, was known to Arthur
Hopkins in his youth (see p. 303), but it does not seem that GMH ever
met him,
*67* 6. Hemy, Charles Napier, ARA (184 i-i 9 1 7) was chiefly a marine painter,
A Tynesider by birth, he emigrated with his parents to Australia at 9 years
old and later worked his passage back to England; afterwards ‘oscillated
between the Roman Catholic priesthood, art, and the sea, passing more
than once from painting to monastery and back again’ (J. E, Phythian,
handbook to Permanent Collection of Manchester City Art Gallery, 1910). Pupil of
NOTES TO JOURNAL
Leys at Antwerp and painted religious subjects; then sea-pictures; and,
under Whistler’s influence, riverside studies in 70’s and Bo’s. Works in
Tate (Ghantrey) and City Galleries of Manchester and Leeds.
i67, 7. Poynter, Sir Edward John ( 1 836-1 9 1 9 ; see DNB) was a pupil of Leigh-
ton. Slade Professor, University College, London 1871-5; Director of Art
Dept and Principal of Art Schools, S. Kensington 1875-81; Director of
National Gallery, in succession to Sir F. W. Burton, 1894-1905. President
RA 1896. Published Ten Lectures on Art, 1879. once most popular
works ‘Faithful unto Death’ (the sentry at Pompeii) is in the Wz^lkcr
Gallery, Liverpool, and ‘The Ides of March’ at Manchester. Was elected
ARA after exhibition of ‘The Catapult’. This picture the Saturday Re\iew
(30 May 1868) called ‘an uncommonly interesting illustration of Rondan
warfare. ... As Mr Poynter’s picture is in the highest degree explanatory,
we see the whole working of the catapult’ — and here come 15 lines de-
scribing it — ‘This is historical painting of a rational and valuable kind.
Such pictures as this ought to be reproduced on a large scale by photo-
graphy, and distributed amongst schools.’
167 , 8 . Moore^ Albert Joseph (1841-93 ; see DNB) , one of the 1 3 sons of William
Moore, portrait-painter and teacher of art at York, 5 of whom became
painters (for Henry, see p. 434). Albert began to exhibit at RA scriptural
subjects; but in 1866 he started the long series of ‘decorative compositions’
for which he is remembered. The formula for these pictures was to take
anything from one to four pretty English girls, half-dress them in vaguely
Greek robes, and display them standing, sitting, or lounging in a row, on
or among objects decorated with reminiscences of Japan. Such pictures
are ‘A Summer Night’ (Walker, Liverpool) and ‘Dreamers’ (Birmingham
City Collection). Moore’s titles were often rather misleading — ‘Apricots’
and ‘Pomegranates’ in RA 1866 were both pictures of girls in this style.
‘ “Azaleas”,’ the Art Journal (June 1868, p. 106) said, ‘as a matter of course,
is not free from eccentricity. Yet must it be admitted that this female form
of diaphanous drapery possesses a classic beauty and a dreamy romance
not altogether unpleasing. Subtleties in form and colour seem to indicate
that the artist cherishes an “ideal”, a luxury of the imagination which in
these days unfortunately is scarcely deemed permissible. Delicate, faint, and
quiescent are the colours ; no force of black nor intrusion of positive pig-
ments is permitted to break the spell of dreamy reverie.’ Moore represents
the soft and popular side of the ‘aesthetic’ movement.
167 . 9. Sandys, Frederick (1829-1904; sec DNB). Hopkins would have been
familiar with his black-and-white work, enthusiastically praised by Millais
and Rossetti, for a number of years in Once a Week, the Cornhill, &c. His
drawing of Cleopatra (Dalziel engraving), with Swinburne’s poem specially
written to accompany it, was in the Comhill Sept. 1866, xiv. 331, a number
which GMH almost certainly read. For RA 1868 his oil ‘Medea’ was
accepted but crowded out; as the result of Swinburne’s and other protests,
it was hung on the line 1869. The picture GMH mentions was No. 735
‘Study of a Head’. In the Victoria and Albert, reproduced in
Drawings (Small Picture Book No. 12), is the pencil-and-red-chalk drawing
NOTES TO JOURNAL 389
‘Proud Maisie’ illustrating Scott’s poem ‘The Pride of Youth’, the girl’s
hair in minute and vigorous detail, one lock being bitten. This was a
favourite theme with Sandys and appears in his illustration to Christina
Rossetti’s Tf’. Sec Glecson White and Forrest Reid. The best collection of
Sandys drawings is in the Birmingham City Gallery. Works also in Walker
Collection, Liverpool.
167* 10. Watts, George Frederic (1817-1904; see DNB, R. W. Alston, Mind
and Work of G. W, Watts, and R. Chapman, Ttie Laurel and the Thorn,
1945). (i) Clytie. Marble original in Guildhall Art Gallery; No. 157 in
Watts Exhibition, Tate Gallery, 1954-5, of which Catalogue summarizes
the literature. The Clytie legend (Ovid, Met, iv. 190-270) is that from
jealousy she revealed the consummated love of Apollo (as Sun God) for
Lcucothoe, and was punished. She sat nine days in starvation, yearningly
turning her head to the sun in his course, and was then slowly changed into
the heliotrope plant. The bust aims to show the human agonies of unre-
quited love and longing for light denied, combined with the legendary
pain of physical transformation from woman to flower. A young woman
throws her head dramatically back, straining to look over her right shoulder
(pose possibly from Ellen Terry) ; upper arms and shoulders have quite
abnormal muscular development, said to have been taken from a male
model ; under the naked breasts in place of drapery is foliage, as if en-
croaching, worked so as to have suggestions of drapery. Swinburne’s ecstatic
praise is in Notes (cited above), pp. 35-36. George Eliot, after presenta-
tion of cast by Watts, wrote: ‘The Bust looks grander and grander in my
eyes now that I can turn to it from time to time’ (MS at Watts Gallery,
Compton, Guildford). Bronze casts in Watts Gallery and the Tate.
(ii) Esau and Jacob, in the Watts Gallery, Compton. On a high flat rock
the brothers meet, filling all the foreground ; at a lower level behind are a
mother and child and other figures; the background is a wide vista of plain
closed by distant hills. Reproduced in R. W. Alston, Mind and Work of
G, F. Watts and Commemorative Catalogue, Exhibition of British Art, Royal
Academy, ig34, p. cxxvii.
(iii) The Wife of Pygmalion: in the collection of Lord Faringdon; No. 45
in the Tate Watts Exhibition 1954-5. Galatea is shown at bust length just
in the transition from marble to flesh. Swinburne in adulation called it a
‘“translation” of a Greek statue into an English picture’ (Notes, ii. 32).
(Gladstone was most anxious to buy it. Reproduced in Masterpieces of G, F,
(rev. edn 1913), p. 63.
*67* n. Legros, Alphonse (1837-191 1 ; see DNB), b. Dijon, worked in Paris,
‘fettled in London on Whistler’s encouragement 1863. Slade Professor,
University College, London 1875-92. Frequent exhibitor of paintings and
^:tchings RA 1864-82. Pictures in National Gallery of Scotland (one),
Manchester City Gallery (four). Walker Collection, Liverpool (ii).
No. 260 ‘The Refectory* (‘Three monks and a tabby cat have assembled
to make a meal off a mackerel’ : W. M. Rossetti, Notes, i. 9) was praised
by both Rossetti and Swinburne; but ‘Sir Thomas More showing some of
Holbein’s pictures to Henry the Eighth’ Swinburne called ‘an instance of
390
NOTES TO JOURNAL
absolute error ; it has no finer quality of its own, and the reminiscence of
Holbein is not fortunate’ {Notes^ ii. 36).
167. 1 2. Madame Leupold*s concert : Mme Leupold was a teacher of music living
in Westbourne Avenue. Her concert was not advertised in The Times: it
was possibly given in her home. The finger-glasses were Musical Glasses,
played by stroking the rims, tuned according to the amount of water each
contained. In England they outlived Benjamin Franklin’s invention of the
Armonica (or Glass Harmonica) in Dec. 1761, in which the glasses were
strung on a revolving iron spindle, and remained popular in the siiftjipler
form. For many interesting details of their history and use, sec A. Hyatt
King, The Musical Glasses and Glass Harmonica^ Proc. Royal Musical A^cn,
1945-6, p. 97. Their tone was famous in the i8th century: ‘No instruttient
that I know has so celestial a tone’, wrote Gray to James Brown, Mar. 1 761 ,
T thought it was a Cherubim in a box’ (quoted by Hyatt King, p. 106).
Mattauphdne is not given in Scholes or Grove or by Hyatt King. It may
have been a trade-name for the particular species on which Mile Vogt
performed. Such names were extremely varied. Scholes, A Mirror of Music,
1947, quotes ‘Crystalphonicon’; Hyatt King finds ‘Golophone’ (1888);
GMH would have been particularly entertained by an advertisement
calling one (c. 1900) a ‘Hydrodaktulopsychicharmonica’ (quoted in Scholes,
The Oxford Companion to Music). His sketch of Mile Vogt playing is inserted
from left-hand page of MS.
168. I . Letter from Bridges .... home inserted from left-hand page, where it
is dated ‘24’. RB had just returned from his journey abroad with Lionel
Muirhead (see p. 159).
i68. 2. the Coleridges' at HanwelL For Ernest Hartley Coleridge see p. 319.
His father, Revd Derwent Coleridge, formerly Principal of St Mark’s
College, Chelsea, had become Rector of Hanwell, W. of London, in 1864
(see DNB). It would probably have been upon this occasion, if at all, that
GMH might have seen the MS Note-Books of S. T. Coleridge (see Preface,
p. XXX and also Humphry House, Coleridge, 1953, p. 10).
i68« 3. the Husbands'. Thomas Matthew Husband is recorded as living in
Frognal in 1854 and at The Manor House, Frognal, 1873. William Howitt
{Northern Heights of London, 1869, p. 152) argued that the ancient site of
the Manor House was next door to that bearing the name when Husband
lived there. There was a daughter Connie Husband, whose photograph is
in the Hopkins family collection; she was born about 1848 and died 3 Apr.
1877, Writing to his mother on 20 Apr. 1877, GMH asks: ‘Was Edward
Bond ever attached to her?’
i68. 4. National Gallery, (i) The only Madonna by Beltraffio (1467-151^?
Milanese) then in the Gallery was No. 728, bought 1863. The child lies in
His Mother’s lap, with a deep red sash round His waist, having just turned
away from the breast; behind is a green-and-gold curtain, with landscape
showing on either side, (ii) There is no genuine Giotto in the Gallery; but
{a) No. 276, the fragment of the head and shoulders of two Apostles, frojn
a fresco in S. Maria del Carmine, Florence, now attributed to Spinello
NOTES TO JOURNAL 391
Aretino been bought in the Samuel Rogers sale, 1856,
as by Giotto; and (b) No. 568, ‘Coronation of the Virgin*, bought 1857, was
long catalogued as ‘School of Giotto’, now attributed to Angelo Taddeo
Gaddi (?i 333 “^ 6 )> Florentine School, (hi) Mantegna’s draperies are
more fully described in 1874 (see p. 241 and n.).
168. 5. Miss Dolben, Ellen (1836—1912), sister of Digby Mackworth Dolben
(see p. 325). She became Lady of the Manor of Finedon on her mother’s
death in 1895, and died unmarried as the last descendant of the Dolben
family. June 28 was the first anniversary of Dolben’s death.
168. 6. EdgelL Alfred Thomas Townshend Wyatt-Edgell, later Lord Braye
(1849-1928). His father, Edgell Wyatt-Edgell (1801-88), lover of church
music, resigned Rectory of North Gray, Kent, after many years, and
retired into lay life at Stanford Hall, Leics. At Eton (Stevens’s) the son
became a fervent High Anglican, member of Ignatius Lyne’s Benedictine
‘Third Order’, and intimate friend of Digby Dolben. Discovering in his
room a triptych-cupboard containing crucifix and candles, Stevens said:
‘Boy, this kind of thing ends in one of two ways — Rome or Infidelity!’
At (Christ Church (matriculated, but did not take a degree), after a period
‘at the feet of Pusey and Liddon’, it ended in Rome, Received by Mgr
Capel June 1868 (cf. LL, i. 54). Published The Little Sacrament Book
(Rivington, ? 1865), with verses of his own; Amadeus and other Poems (Smith,
Elder, 1873); and other verses, articles, and pamphlets. ‘Amadeus’ is an
elegy for Dolben, which Bridges asked leave to reprint as a Preface to
Dolben’s Poems. Lord Braye, perhaps realizing that Edgell had plagiarized
Milton, Wordsworth, and Shelley, perhaps wishing, as he said, he ‘had set
the elegy in a more Catholic key’, refused. Other 1873 verses also centre on
Dolben’s death. Edgcll’s mother {nSe Hon. Henrietta Otway-Cave), who
followed him into the Catholic Church, became Baroness Braye 1879; he
succeeded as 5th Baron the same year; changed name to Verney-Cavc by
licence 1880; inherited Stanford Hall 1881 ;JP and DL Leics.; Lt. Col. and
Hon. Col. 3rd Bn (Militia) Leics. Regt; S. African medal and clasp;
Knight of Malta. His Fewness of my Days: a Life in two Centuries (1927),
though rambling and monotonously moaning against the Reformation,
contains interesting matter used in this note and elsewhere in the volume.
Of Edgell’s two brilliant soldier elder brothers, one died 1866, one was
killed in battle of Ulundi 1879. For GMH’s meeting with him in 1880, see
LL, i. 104.
169. 1. ^blue bow\ Cf. p. 148 and n.
*69* 2. That evening . . . town inserted from left-hand page of MS., where it
is dated ‘July 6’. Above, three very slight sketches of mountain-views (not
given) are on leaves of thick, smooth paper — obviously torn from a note-
book — stuck on to the page. This must surely be the same as (or a continua-
tion of) the ‘little book’ referred to on pp. 150 and 166. The three leaves
here show its dimensions to have been 4x2-5 in. (or slightly narrower
than the four sketch-books catalogued in appx IV). On the back of the
sketches are pencilled financial jottings, and notes clearly written up into
this part of the Journal.
392 NOTES TO JOURNAL
170. I . the Museum. The Gallery of the Basle Museum has one room devoted
to Holbein’s pictures, and another to Holbein and Diirer drawings, Hol-
bein’s predclla, ‘Christ in the Tomb’ (oil and tempera on wood, 1521) is
now catalogued as No. 15, reproduced in Paul Ganz, The Paintings of Hans
Holbein^ Phaidon, 1950, pi. 51. There is nobility in the head and face; but
the rigid, outstretched body gives a horrifyingly final impression of death.
Before it Dostoevsky once exclaimed, ‘This picture could rob many a man
of his faith’ (quoted by Ganz, p. 218).
170. 2. as opposite. Sketch from left-hand page. 1
170. 3. Thorvaldsen^ s monument-, the famous ‘Lion of Lucerne’, commetpo-
rating the Swiss Guards who fell in defence of the Tuileries in Aug. 17^2.
The lion, 28 feet long, 18 feet high, defends in its death-agony the Bourbon
lily. It was hewn out of the sandstone rock, in a grotto outside the Wag^s
Gate, by Lukas Ahorn of Constance 1820-1, after a model by the Danish
sculptor Thorvaldsen (1770-1844). The bats were flitting round the pool
at its base, fed from a spring in the rock above.
170.4. variant of ‘quoins’ (= coigns), wedge-shaped blocks (usually
of stone or wood). Cf. Epithalamion\ 1. 37: ‘selfquain^d rocks* {Poems^
p. 172).
170. 5. the Rigi (5,905 feet). Besides tourists, pilgrims in great numbers have
ascended the mountain since 1 700, when a miraculous image of the Virgin
was placed in the Chapel of Our Lady of the Snow, built for the Rigi
cowherds. The ascent was already a major tourist attraction by the time
of GMH’s visit : the Rigi-Kulm Hotel, just below the summit, was built in
1848; and sunrise and sunset were heralded by Alpine horns.
171. I. nive. The line ‘Bracchia purpurea candidiora nive’, ‘arms whiter
than gleaming snow’, is from Elegiae in Maecenatemy ii. 62, of uncertain
authorship. In GMH’s time Scaliger’s attribution to Albinovanus was not
altogether abandoned. For discussion and bibliography see J. W. and
A. M. Duff, Minor Latin Poets (Loeb), 1935, pp. 1 15 ff. ‘Purpureus*, normal
for the red-purple range of colours, was also often used to mean bright and
shining; applied by Virgil and Ovid to ‘lumen’ and ‘lux*.
171. 2. The stations: the 13 halting-places, wayside shrines for pilgrims,
leading up to the Chapel of Our Lady of the Snow.
171. 3, the Three Lindens: a hill NE. of Lucerne.
1 71. 4. In fact .... gadroons inserted from left-hand page. The phrase trans-
lates the sketch into exact technical terms : flattened and elongated curves
joined at their ends to form an architecturally decorative pattern.
172. I. gentianellas: Gentiana acaulis.
17a. 2. blood-red lucerne. Possibly Sainfoin {Onobrychis viciifolia).
172. 3. a deep blue glossy spiked flower. Possibly a species of Phyteuma (Ram-
pion).
393
NOTES TO JOURNAL
172. 4. pagkaree (puggaree) : a fashion imported from India, a silk scarf worn
round the head or hat and falling down behind as a shade.
173. I . the Staubbach (‘Dust-stream*) : the largest of the many brooks which
descend into the Liitschinc as it flows through the Lauterbrunnen gorge.
173. 2. the Giessbach Falls, seven cascades leaping through a forest of fir,
were already one of the most popular sights in the Bernese Oberland.
They were illuminated by Bengal lights every evening through the
summer. Gf. Ruskin’s admiration of this to his mother 7 June 1866:
\ . the red light shines right through, turning the whole waterfall into a
torrent of fire’ [Works^ ed. Cook and Wedderburn, xviii, p. xli).
174. I. the Silberhorn (12,156 feet), one of the peaks of the Jungfrau.
174. 2. The bigger-leaved one : probably a species oiAlchemilla (Lady’s Mantle) .
The other was probably one of the species of Potentilla allied to P. reptans,
175. I. the Faulhorn (8,802 feet), rising between the Lake of Brienz and the
valley of Grindelwald.
176. I. What is ,, , wet is a note on left-hand page of MS.
176. 2. the Finster Aarhorn ( 1 4,026 feet) , the highest of the Bernese mountains.
176. 3. the Baths of Rosenlaui: a favourite halting-place near a mineral
spring. See sketch, plate 28.
177. I. the three falls of the Reichenbach: already celebrated. Huts had been
built near for tourists, and Baedeker in 1869 was complaining of ‘the con-
version of this beautiful work of nature into a peep-show’. Like the Giess-
bach, the falls were at times illuminated at night.
*77- 2. July ig, 1868 is the opening entry in the ist of the two Journal note-
books published in NB (1937), pp. 105-2 17. The page is headed ‘Journal*.
179. I. brown tulip-like flower was possibly a species of Fritillaria,
179* 2. like Solomon's seal. This was probably Veratrum alburn^ but possibly
a species of Ornithogalum (Star of Bethlehem).
180. I. the Riffel: the ridge of the Riffelberg, 8,000 feet; they would have
dined and stayed at the Riffel Inn on the top, the usual starting-point for
the expedition they made during the next three days.
180, 2. the Gomergrat (10,289 feet) : a rocky ridge rising from the table-land
of the Riffelberg.
t8i. I. Cima di Jazi (12,526 feet); five hours from the Riffel; regarded as
one of the easiest of the Alps to climb.
*8i. 2. the Breithorn (13,685 feet): 7J hours from the Riffel Inn, via the
Th^odule Pass. The highest mountain they climbed.
*81.3. twiring: peeping. Cf. Shakespeare, Sonnet xxviii, 1. 12: ‘When
sparkling stars twire not.’ See also ‘twire (?)’ on p. 47 and n.
*82. I. Tyndal: John Tyndall (1820-93), the natural philosopher. His re-
searches into glaciers with T, H. Huxley had led to his becoming a leading
394 NOTES TO JOURNAL
British Alpine moiintaineer. This, his third assault on the Matterhorn,
was successful. In Hours of Exercise in the Alps^ 1871, he refers to the 2 a.m.
Mass in which GMH joined : it was insisted upon by one of his guides
before he would climb on the Sunday. For Hopkins’s opinion of Tyndall
as a philosopher, and another reference to this meeting, see LL, iii. 127-8.
182. 2. rvxJI rexvTjv arepyovar): ‘[by] chance that loves art’ (based on a
quotation from Agathon).
185# I. Maplesy Frederick George, b. Calcutta 1845, son of William
a Bengal civilian (d. 1854). Foundation Sch. Highgatc School 1857-63.
Brought up an extreme Protestant, even believing that ‘all R.G.’s teust
go to hell!’ As a Highgate day-boy he probably attended few services at
St Michael’s. Upset his friends by becoming at Cambridge (St John’s;
3rd Classics 1867) a ‘Puseyite’ and ‘Ritualist’. Ordained deacon Trinity
Sunday, 7 June 1868, signing the Articles in good faith, depending on
teaching of Keble and Pusey for their Catholic interpretation. Curate to
Revd J. C. Chambers (Master of the Society of the Holy Cross 1862-3)
at St Mary’s, Crown Street, Soho; this famous church, latterly in Charing
Cross Road, was demolished 1933 (see J. G. Lockhart, Viscount Halifax,
p. 109; Bumpus, London Churches, ii. 180). After ordination Maples was
shaken on a number of major points by Bp Forbes’s Explanation of the
Thirty-Nine Articles', he also felt bound to take the Roman view of Matt,
xvi. 18; was inclined to think the Anglican reasons for the historical
separation from Rome were ‘abominable’ ; had at least uncertainty about
the validity of Anglican Orders, and was discontented with the existing
state of the Church. It was these perplexities he wanted to discuss with
Hopkins; four days after their meeting he wrote to Liddon a very long
letter explaining his trouble; it seems at least possible that he did so at
Hopkins’s suggestion, ‘The temptations not to join the Church of Rome’,
wrote Maples, ‘are many and appalling. . . . There are two ways in which
to look at my perplexities : either as a temptation of the devil, or, as God’s
unaccountable merciful Love calling me to a truer knowledge of Him. The
latter seems almost too blessed to be true, for why shd. He choose out meV
Liddon replied at length on 15 Aug.; after saying Maples’s difficulties
‘could only be answered honestly and satisfactorily in considerable books ,
he took all his points in turn, and ended by begging him to look on his
difficulties ‘as a cross’ to be patiently borne, and not to encourage himself
in trains of thought or courses of reading which would wean his heart
from his present position, even before they touched his judgement. Even
so, Maples became a Roman Catholic the same year. He later became a
priest and served at Our Lady Immaculate and St Frederick the Martyr,
Limchouse; the Immaculate Heart of Mary, Great Billing, Northants.,
Our Lady and St Demas (the Good Thief), Matlock Bridge, Derbyshire,
&c. He valued his one connexion with Liddon enough to send his letter for
use by Canon Johnston in the Life, and a copy of it is in the Liddon Papers-
185.2. Saw Garrett, Entered under 16 Aug., but note on left-hand page says
‘No, the next day’.
395
NOTES TO JOURNAL
185, 3. Balloons seen at Willesden. These were probably the two balloons sent
up in the evening from the annual outing of the Most Ancient Order of
Foresters at the Crystal Palace. One, a fish balloon, was piloted by Mr
Orton; the other, called ‘Robin Hood’, by Mr Adams. They went up to a
great height, and though they did not travel far, could probably have been
seen across London.
185. 4. fald near Chester . . . gold armour. The armour is the Gold Peytrel
(breast-plate for a horse), of the later Bronze period, now in the British
Museum, for which it was bought in 1835. Archaeologidy xxvi (1836), 422 ff.
contains ‘A letter from John Gage Esq. F.R.S.’, from which the following
account is taken:
(i) Extract from a letter dated 29 Jan. 1835 from Mr John Langford to
John Fenton Esq. of Glynamel, Fishguard:
‘The gold breast-plate, now in my possession, was raised on the 1 1 th
of October, 1833, from a description of rough vault in a field in my farm
(about a quarter of a mile from the town [Mold]) called Bryn-yr-Ellylon.
The stones had partially fallen in, among which were found the bones of
a man, and the breast-plate which was partly bent together from the
weight of the stones which had fallen on it. The discovery happened by
removing what appeared to be a mass of litter, in order to level the mound
with the rest of the field. About three or four hundred loads of pebble
and other stones were found upon the place where the body had ap-
parently been laid.’
(ii) Extract from a letter from the Revd Charles Butler Clough, Vicar of
Mold, to John Gage Esq. :
‘Connected with this subject it is certainly a strange circumstance that
an elderly woman, who had been to Mold to lead her husband home late
at night from a public house, should have seen, or fancied, a spectre to
have crossed the road before her to the identical mound of gravel, “of
unusual size, and clothed in a coat of gold, which shone like the sun,” and
that she should tell the story next morning many years ago, amongst
others to the very person, Mr. John Langford, whose workmen drew the
treasure out of its prison-house. Her having related this story is an un-
doubted fact. I cannot, however, learn that there was any tradition of
such an interment having taken place; though possibly this old woman
might have heard of something of the kind in her youth, which still dwelt
upon her memory, and associated with the common appellation of the
Bank “Bryn-yr-Ellylon”, (the Fairies’ or Goblins’ Hill), and a very
general idea that the place was haunted, presented the golden effigy to
her imagination.’
An article in the Proceedings of the Society of Antiquaries, xviii. 223, proves
conclusively that the breastplate was for a horse and not a man.
*86, I. National Portraits (sec also p. 370). This was the third and last of the
special exhibitions ; 946 portraits were shown, two-thirds of them being of
the I gth century, the rest a supplementary collection of earlier periods. The
portraits GMH mentions were: (i) No. 629 ‘Will. West, Ld. Delawarr*,
lent by Mr R. S, Holford, whose family presented it to the National
396 NOTES TO JOURNAL
Gallery 1927. It is there No. 4252, described as ‘English School of Holbein*,
(ii) No. 628 ‘John Reskimer’, lent from the Royal Collection, Hampton
Court, where it still is. ‘To waist; nearly profile to r. ; showing both hands-
dark mantle; vine leaves in background. Panel i8x 13 in.’ (hi) No. 6a6
‘Hen. Howard, E. of Surrey and a Lady supposed to be the Fair Geraldine’,
lent by Lord Taunton. ‘Half-length figure, in a landscape; Surrey holds
a heart’s-ease, Lady G. a heart; in the sky is a Cupid with bow and arrow.
Panel 6^ X 4^ in.’ That GMH wrote of a red pear seems to show that he
went round without a catalogue, (iv) No. 152 John Keats* by Wi^liam
Hilton, RA, lent by the National Portrait Gallery. ‘To waist; leaning on 1.
hand; open book before him. Canvas 30 X 25 in.’ (v) No. 153 ‘Percy B^she
Shelley’ by Miss Curran, lent by Sir Percy Shelley, Bt. ‘To waist, sea^d;
nearly full face; open white collar, blue coat; pen in r. hand. CanVas
24X 20 in.’
i86. 2. St AlbarCs. Main sources: VCH Hertfordshire^ ii and iv; HMC
Hertfordshire; A Guide to Saint Albans Cathedral (HMC, SO, 1952); Bell’s
Series. Benedictine abbey, then a vast, muddled Parish church, too poor
to maintain its fabric, being doctored by Sir Gilbert Scott. Lady-chapel
was in use as Grammar School, with open public passage between it and
presbytery. Ten years later Protestant lawyer-architect-benefactor Lord
Grimthorpe averted collapse ; but his own appalling major works (W. front
and N. and S. ends of great transept) have much altered the building GMH
saw. Grimthorpe did wisely replace steep-pitched roofs. One Hopkins
family photograph shows nave and S. aisle roofs completed, with other
Grimthorpe works not yet begun ; others show what GMH saw, as also docs
a miniature model kept in the Cathedral near St Alban’s shrine.
Great tower (built, like most of the Norman church, of Roman bricks
from Verulamium) probably plastered originally, is now stripped, red and
rough: still has triangular pigeon-holes. Modern opinion considers three
Early English W, bays (begun 1195) an extension, not a conversion of
Norman work: but GMH followed contemporary experts, except in the
mistake of supposing all on the S. side was ‘converted’; for the three E.
bays of the architectural nave then were, and still are, Norman. The only
S. aisle windows he admired are those above blind arcading of cloister.
Stone used in Gk>thic part of interior is clunch from Tottenhoe near
Dunstable. The famous paintings of the Crucifixion {c. 1215-60) were
discovered 1862 by removing whitewash from plaster which still covers
brickwork of the arcade; on both ist and 2nd piers from the W. the crosses
arc trees ‘raguly, painted green’. The budding cross at Godshill is mid-
15th century. Present opinion suggests altars against only two of the
decorated piers. Painted ceiling of ritual nave destroyed by Grimthorpe,
but well shown in large water-colour of 1875 now kept in N. choir-aisle.
Painted ceilings of choir (late 15th century, flat, in rectangular panels)
and presbytery (late 13th century) still remain: the latter is the groined
wooden vault which GMH speaks of as in ‘the choir*. The high-altar
screen (1484) had not then been restored and filled with modern sculpture-
it is typical of GMH to have observed specially its back, with tall delicate
buttress-work.
NOTES TO JOURNAL 397
Humphrey, Duke of Gloucester, patron of St Alban’s, of Oxford library,
&c., endowed this chantry in lifetime, and the repeated decorations by
‘daisies’ may be Humanist ‘Gardens of Adonis’. The ‘abbot’s passage*
(shown as GMH saw it in Bell’s Series, p. 20) was a slype S. of S. transept,
destroyed and replaced by Grimthorpe; the wall-tracery is heavily restored
and partly set quite out of place high on wall of S. transept. Saxon work
was re-used by Norman builders in transept triforia; the Saxon shafts may
actually have been turned on a lathe.
It is quite remarkable to have observed the minute twirled, sometimes
shell-like, nozzles at the base of the corbels in the Gothic part of the nave;
they go different ways and also differ from each other in design.
187. I. Rover ^ the family dog, was a black retriever, b. 1864, d, 1 1 May 1875.
There are extant dated photographs.
187. 2. And in Oxford Street . . . shillelagh. This entry is on the left-hand page
and evidently belongs to this date.
187, 3. To see Amt Kate is entered under 28 Aug., with note on left-hand
page to say it should be under the next day.
187. 4. Mr West. Richard Temple West (1827-93), a famous parish priest
of the second Tractarian generation. After Christ Church he entered as a
student at Lincoln’s Inn, but gave up the law and was ordained from
Guddesdon 1853. His curacies at Leeds and Hemcl Hempstead were
stormy. In 1858 while curate to William Gresley (sec p. 317) at Boyne
Hill, Maidenhead, he was acquitted, after public inquiry, of a charge of
improperly inducing a w^oman to confess to him. The church, parsonage,
and schools at Boyne Hill had been designed by Street as a model group of
modern parish buildings; they are fully illustrated and described, with a
report of the inquiry, in The Illustrated News of the Worlds 2 Oct. 1858. West
had thus been in touch with Street’s work at various stages of his life.
After a lime on the staff of All Saints’, Margaret Street, he opened a
temporary Mission Church Jan. 1865, by the Grand Junction Canal in
Paddington. An account of his work there and of the building of the per-
manent church (with illustration) is in T. T. Carter, Richard Temple West:
A Memoir ( 1 895) . He remained Vicar of St Mary Magdalene’s, Paddington,
till death, leaving it one of the most vigorous and efficient parishes in
London. The schools there are a memorial to him. He was a very close
friend of Hopkins’s Aunt Kate (see p. 332), but it is not known how and
when their friendship began.
5- church by Street. St Mary Magdalene’s, Paddington, is only five
niinutes* walk, along Formosa Street and over the canal, from Marsland
Hopkins’s former church, St Saviour’s, Warwick Avenue. Aunt Kate was on
familiar ground. From a comer of Castellain Road it is now possible to
have both churches in view; a comparison reveals Street’s genius against the
commonplaces of the Gk)thic Revival. By his imaginative use of a difficult,
^larrow, and sloping site, he here produced one of his most interesting
churches. West was as prudent in spending as skilful in raising his funds : the
Work therefore went in stages over 6 years from the laying of the foundation
39B notes to journal
stone on 22 July 1867. On this visit Hopkins would have seen finished
the apse, which fills the angle between two streets, and only the body of the
nave without its tall clerestory and S. aisle. Internally he saw something of
the effect of raising the short, vaulted choir and sanctuary sharply and
steeply above the floor of the nave; he saw too the fine N. arcade (with
plain octagonal main columns and subdivided arches) which divided off the
strange narrow quasi-aisle forced on Street by the Building Act. The nave
was being temporarily roofed, to be opened for services on 21 Oct. 1868.
Thus GMH missed the sense of the church as a whole, with the octa^nal
spired tower set in the SE. angle beside the apse. Street wrote to West:
‘Happy is the architect who is allowed to build in this way. ... If Clergy
would do as you do, begin on a large scheme, and build bit by bit, we shduld
have more fine churches, and architects would not complain that nothling
grand or noble is possible.* See Bumpus, London Churches, ii. 319-24 and
Garter’s Memoir of West, as above.
187. 6 . Smith, Charles John Moncrieff (1846-1912: changed his name to
Smyth by deed poll 1877). Son of Dr Robert Maidstone Smith, of Gib-
liston, Fife. Educ. Cheltenham; Christ’s, Cambridge 1866, for five terms
only. Became a Roman Catholic 1867. Priest 1868. Curate to Frederick
Oakeley 1872-8. After various missions in London, became Asst Dio-
cesan Inspector of Schools, Westminster 1897; Chief Inspector 1904; and
Chairman, Diocesan Education Fund. Canon of Westminster 1 905.
187* 7. Ely, Main sources: James Bentham, History ,,, of the Cathedral
Church of Ely (1771 ; 2nd edn 1812) ; Handbook to the Cathedral Church of El}\
esp. 1867 edn and 20th edn (1898, cd. C. W. Stubbs) ; Victoria County
History of Cambridge and the Isle of Ely, vol. iv, ed. R. B. Pugh (1953) with
architectural description of Ely Cathedral by T. D. Atkinson. The VCH
reproduces Plates XLI and XLI V from Bentham, which most clearly show
the details which interested Hopkins in octagon and choir. See also Ely, a
pamphlet of modern photographs by Henry C. Stacy (SPGK, undated).
There are extant photographs of the cathedral by his uncle, George
Giberne, which Hopkins may have seen in about Jan. 1864.
great Norman tower, Francis Bumpus called it ‘our greatest and loftiest
Early English tower’, but ‘Norman’ is still used by the official Short History
of Ely Cathedral (1954). The tower below the 15th-century octagon and
turrets was finished about 1200; its three upper ranges have lancets with
pointed heads, and are decorated with pointed arches, trefoil arches, and
cusped circles.
transitional. The nave is all late Norman; to call it heavy and barba-
rous except as rescued by slight traces of colour, is an important index of
Hopkins’s taste : its narrowness is certainly effective.
corbels of the choir vault are long inverted cones, some carved with foliage
in very high relief, some with flat bands.
Alan of Walsingham, The famous sacrist under Bp Hotham and Pnor
Crauden, who supervised the building of both the Lady Chapel and the
great central octagon and lantern, is not personally now, so much as for-
merly, credited with the varied genius which they display (sec VCH)*
399
NOTES TO JOURNAL
triforium in the choir. In the W. bays each triforium arch is subdivided by a
slender central shaft of Purbcck marble ‘carrying very flat ogee arches
elaborately cusped, and with geometrical tracery’ (VCH).
scroll of open tracery. This fills the space caused by the difl'erence in height
between the tall E. arch of the octagon crossing and the lower W. arch of
the choir vault. It is vertically high above Sir Gilbert Scott’s choir-screen
(1852) and appears, though badly drawn, in Bentham’s Plates XLI and
XLIV, and also, clearly, in one of the Hopkins family photographs.
canopies over brackets are roughly shown in Hopkins’s sketch. The year
after his visit the brackets were, and still are, occupied by seated figures
of the Apostles, ‘each holding a symbolical instrument’, by Redfern. See
Ely Gossip by Rt Revd Harvey Goodwin (1892), p. 62. They are well
shown in the SPGK pamphlet.
pierced hoods, difficult to see from the ground, and to visualize from verbal
description. Handbook (1898) says: ‘Towards the top each window is faced
internally with a trellis or lattice work of stone.* Bentham’s Plate XLI, and
Stacy’s SPGK photograph taken looking up into the lantern, both give
something of the effect.
The deling of the nave. Painting begun by H. Styleman L’Estrange (1815-
62), influenced by original contemporary ceiling in romanesque church of
St Michael, Hildesheim {Ely Gossip, p. 35). After doing the six W. bays
L’Estrange left, to design cartoons for St Alban’s, Holborn, and died.
Thomas Gambier Parry (see p. 335) completed his friend’s Ely work, with
the ‘spirit-fresco’ process used also by Ford Madox Brown in Manchester
Town Hall. The frescoes show, in twelve subjects, the sacred history of
man from the creation to the Son in Glory. The pleasing quietness has
increased with time.
the window with the queen in her coronation robes in the SW. angle of the
octagon also shows the Prince Consort robed as Chancellor of Cambridge
University, with Bp Turton and Dean Peacock (who ‘gave the cost of
their own figures respectively’) beneath. This series of windows by Wailes
was praised, when recent, by the 1867 Handbook and deplored by the 1898.
A sculptured undergraduate, with an Indian student, kneels on the
memorial to Dr. Mill (Regius Prof, of Hebrew, d. 1853) in the retro-choir.
The butler and bedmakcr may be minor figures in the SE. window of the
octagon, but in Sept. 1954 ‘scaffolding broke it up and hid it’.
Th£ transeft roof. ‘The roof in both [arms of the great transept] is of bare
rafters with rich cornices, painted with flowers and devices; and angels
with wings expanded under the principals : both have recently undergone
a thorough repair, the rafters and cornices have been repainted and gilded
in their original style’ {Handbook, 1867).
The Lady~chapel was used as the parish church of Holy Trinity till 1938,
when it was taken over by the Dean and Chapter and restored by the help
of the Pilgrim Trust. The ‘arcade’ is in fact a series of 74 stone stalls
(corresponding to the 70 wooden stalls in the monks’ choir of the main
church), grouped in pairs, running round all the walls under the windows
ol the chapel, each stall having its own arch and each pair its own canopy
projecting forwards at the centre and decorated with the most beautifully
400 NOTES TO JOURNAL
rich and delicate carving. The sculptured figures in the spandrils between
the arches of each pair of stalls illustrated the scriptural and legendary
history of the Virgin and were all decapitated and otherwise mutilated
‘after the Reformation*. The whole series is illustrated and described by
M. R. James in The Sculptures in the Lady Chapel at Ely ( 1 895) . It is said that
when Pugin saw the chapel he burst into tears. To try to feel the effect of
this wonderful work as a whole is a valuable help towards understanding
Hopkins*s use of the word ‘instress*.
Prior Crauden's chapel, S. of the main monastic buildings and attached to
the Prior*s Hall, now forms, together with the undercroft on whidfi it is
built, a double chapel for the King’s School. The E. window, which QMH
describes, has five equal lights, with tracery so designed as to form an ihner
arch above the central three, the ‘outer border* of tracery being of the
width of one light on either side. A photograph in the SPCK pampklet
excellently shows the effect from outside. The chapel also has two small
windows richly decorated on the inside with canopies similar to those of
the Lady Chapel stalls.
The galilee is lancet- work of the early 13 th century. There are two fine
Giberne photographs of its exterior, from one of which GMH probably
made, in about Jan. 1864, the drawing in Note-Book G. I marked: ‘West
door, Ely Cathedral. Very incorrect’ (see p. 14). He apparently here
refers to the outer doorway, which is subdivided by a central column, to
form two cusped and elaborately moulded arches, with bold tracery above.
The two mouldings are possibly the two highest inner mouldings of these
two arches, whicli are carved with foliage, and run down to form a ‘v*.
i88» I. Uncle Charles: Charles Gordon Hopkins (1822-B6), second of
Manley Hopkins’s three younger brothers. After working some years in a
London lawyer’s office, went out to Honolulu in 1844, on recommenda-
tion of Sir George Simpson (see p. 303, n. 18), to join staff of the Hawaiian
Government. From 1845 to 1867 held bewildering series of appointments
under three successive King Kamehamehas, and played considerable part
in the national life. At different times Clerk of the Supreme Court, Director
of the Government Press, Private Secretary to the King, acting Minister
for Foreign Affairs, and, finally, Minister of the Interior. For some time
he edited and contributed largely to the Polynesian, the Government’s
official paper. He became a naturalized Hawaiian subject in 1845, learnt
Hawaiian, and bought a large cattle ranch. He was on intimate terms with
Kamehameha III, who called him ‘Hopekini’, and with Kamehameha IV,
who first appointed Manley Hopkins to the po^ of Hawaiian Consul in
London. In 1865-6 he accompanied the Dowager Queen Emma on her
tour of Europe. Referred to in Hallam Tennyson’s Memoir of his father,
ii. 27: ‘Sept, 28th. Farringford. Queen Emma of the Sandwich Islands
arrived, Major Hopkins and a huge native, Mr. Hoapili, in attendance
(from Mrs Tennyson’s 1865 Journal); and in Lady (Jane) Franklins
Journals (MSS, Scott Polar Research Institute, Cambridge, 248/135"^)*
Returned to England 1868. For his marriage (at St John’s, Hampstead),
see p. 237. He lived for the rest of his life at Toulon. (Mr A. L. Korn, of the
University of Hawaii, has kindly supplied most of the facts about Charles
401
NOTES TO JOURNAL
Hopkins’s Hawaiian career, and devotes a chapter to him in his forth-
coming book about Lady Franklin’s visit to Hawaii and Q. Emma’s return-
tour of Europe, The Victorian Visitors. The 2nd Part makes it clear that
dislike of Charles Hopkins, in his capacity of aide to Q. Emma, came to be
almost the only sentiment shared between Lady Franklin, her niece Sophia
Cacroft, and Bp Wilberforce) .
189. I . the train. It seems that GMH came down from Frognal into Finchley
Road to the station which is now called ‘Finchley Road and Frognal*
and walked down Finchley Road about J mile to see his grandmother
and Aunt Anne living in what was then called Victoria Road; but the
name was changed some time before 1873 to Fairfax Road {Hampstead
and Highgate Directory ^ 1873, compared with map of Hampstead Parish
dated 1864, both in the Hampstead Central Library). Fairfax Road, still
so called, runs across the angle between Finchley Road and Belsize Road,
just W. of the present Swiss Cottage Bakerloo station. GMH’s train would
have taken him via Willesden Junction to Richmond, whence he could
have reached Roehampton walking or by cab.
189. 2. Roehampton was then a village SW. of London and even now retains
some detachment. The Novitiate of the English Province, which had been
at Hodder, nr Stonyhurst, in Roger Tichborne’s time (see p. 414),
moved thence to Beaumont Lodge, Old Windsor (curiously called by RB
in his Dolben Alemoir ‘a Lodge of Jesuits at Old Windsor’, p. xxviii), and
then again in 1861 to Roehampton Park, a mansion built by the 2nd Earl
of Bessborough. It was renamed Manresa House after the place where St
Ignatius Loyola, in austere retirement, wrote the Spiritual Exercises. From
the entrance-gate NE. of the house (now by the terminus of the No. 30
bus route) in Roehampton Lane, the approach ran first due S. up a slight
hill through an avenue of elms, and then turned at right angles, through
yews (seep. 192) and clipped laurels, to the entrance-front. The architec-
tural front, on the opposite side to the entrance, is airy and grand, with a
line pillared portico (see under 17 Nov. 1869, p. 193), overlooking to W.
the ‘heights and groves’ of Richmond Park. The large grounds of Manresa
still have many of the fine trees which GMH loved — cedars in many places
and turkey-oaks by the chapel ; most of his elms and poplars have gone,
and the chestnuts have changed. The main part of the grounds has now been
requisitioned by the LCG for development, but it is hoped that many of the
trees will be kept. The huge walled garden (E. of the angle in the main
drive), where Bridges took a peach, GMH refused to eat one, and Bridges
>vished to buy more ( Testament of Beauty^ iv. 433-58 ; LL, i. 145, 152), is the
site of a number of blocks of flats. Manresa was badly bombed several times
in the 1 939-45 War, and the Novitiate was moved first to St Beuno’s and
then to Harlaxton, Lines., where it now is: the Juniorate is now at Roe-
hampton. Some other details of house and grounds are annotated separately.
A map of the house and grounds was given in Letters and Notices, 1861.
3 - The Long Retreat. The thirty days* retreat in which the novices first
work through the Spiritual Exercises of St Ignatius. See appx VI.
« 0028 D d
402
NOTES TO JOURNAL
igo. I . T/ie Park grass. Here and elsewhere ‘the Park* is Richmond Park
which lies open to the grounds of Manresa House, from which it is divided
only by a sunk fence or ha-ha (see p. 243). There are still deer in the Park
as there were in GMH’s time.
190. 2. Coupe, John (1792-1880), had been a handloom weaver at Preston,
and joined the Society of Jesus as a lay-brother in 1827. One day the Master
of Novices, in order to try him, ‘ordered him for some slight fault to “take
his hat and stick”, and go. Br Coupe merely answered, “I won’t, and if ye
turn me oot, I’ll sit on the door step”, and then went on with his work
as before.’ He was 35 years cook to the Seminary at Stonyhurst and was
sent to Manresa for retirement in 1862. \
190. 3. Wells, James (1805-84) was a farm-hand near Stonyhurst, ivho
became a paid servant of the Society, was twice married, and after his
second wife’s death worked in the College as an indoor servant without
wages ; and finally entered the novitiate in 1861. He was at Manresa till
1873, when he went to St Beuno’s.
190. 4. April 30. On the left-hand page opposite this entry is written
‘Australian flora’ [‘vegetation’ erased] ; and against the lower entries the
words ‘Grindlestonc’ and ‘Lead*.
190. 5. Kerr, William Hobart, SJ (1836-1913), eldest son of Lord Henry
Kerr of Huntlyburn. His father and mother were both converts, and
he was received into the Catholic Church at the age of 1 6. Educ. for 5 years
at Harrow, then at Stonyhurst and Haileybury. 1856 entered Madras
Civil Service and became Superintendent of Coorg: retired in 1866 from
ill health; entered novitiate SJ 1867. Priest 1875. In 1879 became Assistant
to Master of Novices at Roehampton, and was also put in charge of a new
mission at Wimbledon: on this mission the greater part of his life was spent.
He built in Wimbledon the Sacred Heart Church, St Winefride’s Church,
and the Catholic Schools. ‘The characteristic grace ofFr. Kerr was humi-
lity — a shrinking, sensitive humility’ (Considine). See Wimbledon Bord
News, 29 Mar. 1913; portrait in Stonyhurst Magazine, June 1913. See also
note on Henry Kerr, p. 412.
191« I. Br, Rickaby is John Rickaby (1847-1927), younger brother of Joseph
(seep. 441). He entered the novitiate in 1867 from Stonyhurst. Priest 1878.
For 40 years he was Professor of either Philosophy or Theology at Stony-
hurst or at St Bcuno’s. He had a very exact, factual mind. He wrote
First Principles of Knowledge and General Metaphysics in the ‘Stonyhurst
Series’, and many articles in The Month, e.g. ‘Browning as a Religious
Teacher’ (Dec. 1881) and ‘Jowett’s Biographical Sermons’ (Oct. 1894).
191. 2. white bryony is not generally likely to kill what it entwines.
191. 3. Casano, probably Fr Michael, who died of bilious fever on 7 Aug.
1874, when Superior at Corozal on the mission in British Honduras.
191.4. Goldie, Francis (1836-1912), educated Amplcforth and Ushaw. Read
his theology in Rome and ordained there as a secular priest 1859. Mission-
priest at Harrogate for 7 years. After dispensation from his mission oat
NOTES TO JOURNAL 403
joined SJ 1868. He became Spiritual Father at Mount St Mary’s College,
held offices at Manresa and worked on various missions; but his health
was bad and he made a number of voyages as chaplain to troopships. On
staff of The Month 1890-4; also published several popular religious bio-
graphies, including St. Alphonsus Rodriguez. Devoted much time in later life
to work among sailors. He was the brother of Charles Goldie, the painter,
and of George Goldie, the architect of St James’s, Spanish Place: they were
great-nephews of Joseph Bonomi, Snr, who had designed the original
Spanish Chapel there.
191. 5. Fr. Morris. John Morris (1826-93), b. Ootacamund, son of John
Carnac Morris, Telegu scholar. Became Catholic in second year at
Trinity, Cambridge 1846. F. A. Paley, an older graduate friend, was
converted immediately after. Correspondents in The Times (Oct. 1846)
demanded Paley’s expulsion from Cambridge for perverting under-
graduates. Morris was ordained a secular priest in Rome Sept. 1849.
Canon of Northampton. Vice-Rector, English College, Rome 1853. Re-
turned to England intending to join Society of Jesus, but was uncertain of
Ills vocation. Canon of Westminster 1861-7 and secretary to Cardinals
Wiseman and Manning. In 1867 had a dispute with the Jesuit Provincial
as Canon Penitentiary, but within a month was himself a novice, aged 41 ;
served part of his probation in Belgium. ‘Father Minister’ at Manresa
House, 1869, in charge of discipline and practical afl'airs. At the time of
Hopkins’s later mention (8 Sept. 1874, p. 258) he was lecturing in History
at St. Beuno’s. Well known as Postulator of the cause of the English
Martyrs, and a prolific historian. He was also a successful Master of
Novices and GMH wrote to his mother, 24 Dec. 1881: ‘Fr. Morris’s
novices bear his impress and are staid: we used to roar with laughter
if anything happened, his never do’ {LL, hi. 161). His sermon at Bp
James Brown’s Jubilee (see p. 440) was published as A Sermon, Preached at
St. Beuno's College, July 30, iSyS, followed by The Silver Jubilee initialled
‘G.M.H.’, with text as in Poems, p. 69, except for four variants in punctua-
tion, the last line of each stanza also being set in. See J. H. Pollen, SJ, Life
and Letters of Father John Morris, S.J., with bibliography of his works.
*91 • 6 . Sidgreaves, Edward (1840-1930), educ. Stonyhurst. Went into busi-
ness and lived with his father in S. Devon. In Rome before the shrine of
St Agnes he said, ‘If I pray to that little saint I shall have to be a priest’.
He entered the novitiate 1868. Ordained 1879 and remained some time
at St Beuno’s as Subminister. Then worked 22 years in W. Demerara, and
later at Corpus Christi Church, Boscombe.
* 9 ** 7 - Gartlan, Ignatius (1848—1927), educ. Mt St Mary’s, Chesterfield,
and Stonyhurst. Entered the novitiate 1867. Master at Stonyhurst 1873-80.
Went to the mission at Preston 1891. Rector of St Aloysius, Glasgow.
Prefect Apostolic and Superior of the Zambesi Mission. Taught at St
l^ary’s Hall, Stonyhurst 1917-19. Spent the last part of his life in the
Irish Province, as instructor of tertians at Tullabeg.
* 9 ** 8. Wimbledon Camp. In the 6o’s, Wimbledon Common, to the S. of
nchampton, was annually in July the site of the camp and rifle meeting
404 NOTES TO JOURNAL
of the National Rifle Association, or ‘Volunteers’. For Mr Punch’s views
of this summer’s camp and its visitors, see his issues of lo and 17 July.
The unadorned word ‘Wimbledon’ then referred to this, as it now does
to the Lawn Tennis Meeting {GenilemarC s Magazine, new series, 1868, i. ipg).
The Common was also sometimes the scene of Volunteer field exercises
(see pp. 241-2).
«
191. 9. Fitzsimon, Christopher (1815-81) was Hopkins’s first novice-master;
b. Broughall Castle, King’s County, Ireland. Educ. Downside and Stony-
hurst. Entered the novitiate 1834. Appointed to Manresa 1864. Became
Spiritual Father at Beaumont 1869, and in 1871 was Superior at St Ijdary’s
Hall for a year, when GMH was doing his philosophy there. Held ^nany
offices in his last years and became partially blind. He seems to havdbeen
a man of remarkable spirituality, whose best-remembered work was done
among boys at Beaumont and Stonyhurst. He had known the real Sir
Roger Tichborne intimately and was one of the Stonyhurst witnesses at the
trial. For some account of him as novice-master at Manresa, see Mrs
Maxwell-Scott, Henry Schomberg Kerr, Sailor and Jesuit, 1901.
191. 10. ... suddenly and without a . . . . The page ends here in MS and
Hopkins has added ‘see other end of book. I turn round in order to get the
smooth side of the page.’ And at the other end, where MS continues
unbroken, he says : ‘Continued from the other end of the book in order lo
get the smooth sides of the pages.’
191* II. Fr, Gallway, Peter (1820-1906), b. Killarney, son of agent to Earl
of Kcnmare. Entered novitiate SJ at Hodder 1836. Ordained priest at
St Beuno’s 1852. Minister and Prefect of Studies, Stonyhurst 1855. From
1857 Superior of the Jesuit House (then at 16 Hill Street) in London.
Master of Novices at Roehampton now, 8 July 1869 (see NB [1937J, p. 41^
for a note on his instructions). As Provincial, 1873-6, he treated Hopkins
with great kindness. In 1876 he became Superior at St Beuno’s. The last 30
years of his life were spent at Farm Street. His habit was a plain and active
piety; he was unfanciful, and suspicious of eccentricity. But it is clear from
every account of him, from his success as a mission priest and director, that
he had an immense capacity for personal affection of the kind which was
of the greatest emotional value to Hopkins. See Memoirs of Father P. Gallway
S.J., by Fr M. Gavin SJ, 1913; Father Gallway, by Percy Fitzgerald, 1906.
191. 12. Gillet, Anselm (1848-84), returned to the noviceship ten months
later. He was a linguist and knew a great deal ^out the lives of the Saints.
He was ordained priest in 1881 and went in the following year to the
Mission in British Honduras, where he died of fever (see also p. 235)-
192. I. Spanish oak is a name usually given to the N. American species
Quercus falcata, said to have been called ‘Spanish’ because early colonists
thought it resembled Q,. cerris (the Turkey Oak), which is a native ofS.
Europe and W. Asia, including Spain. It is rare in cultivation.
192. 2. the farm. Part of the Manresa grounds were farmed by the Jesuit
community; the farm buildings were below the house on the N. sid®)
reached by turning sharp right at the entrance gate. The skilled wot
405
NOTES TO JOURNAL
was done by lay brothers (see p. 237 for Br Duffy ploughing) or lay
employees : the clerical novices did unskilled jobs about the farm and
grounds as part of their training in discipline, &c. A regular annual job
was picking the fruit from the big mulberry-tree which stood between the
farm buildings and the house. The tree, most of the farm buildings, and
the Manresa Printing Press, built between the farm and the tree, were
destroyed by bombs I939“45*
192* 3- Aloysios' walk. This was an existing serpentine landscaped walk,
renamed by the Jesuits when they took over the house: it ran from the
main drive round the N. side of the house to the lawn in front of the portico.
There was an equivalent, St Stanislaus’ walk, on the S. side. The names
are now no longer used.
192. 4. Victoria regia. The remarkable structure of the ribs on the underside
of the leaves had already ( 1 850) suggested to Paxton the type of girder
construction he used for the Crystal Palace (Violet R. Markham, Paxton
and the Bachelor Duke, 1935, p. 182).
192. 5. nymphaa scutifolia is the blue waterlily of S. and E. Africa now called
N. capensis; its leaves are nearly circular and float on the water; four of them
must have accidentally formed a pattern suggesting a Maltese Cross.
192. 6 . Egyptian sacred bean refers to Nelumho nucifera, the ‘East Indian Lotus’,
a native of SE. Asia and Australia, the sacred Lotus of the East. GMH
probably took the name from the Kew label, but it is now generally agreed
that Nelumbo only reached Egypt with the Persians, and that the true
sacred waterlily of ancient Egypt was Nymphaa lotus and possibly also N.
aetulea. For a full discussion see H. S. Conard, The Waterlilies, Carnegie
Institute of Washington, 1905.
193. I . opposite bays of the sky. The same architectural metaphor is used in
Deutschland, st. 12, 1. 7:
‘Yet did the dark side of the bay of thy blessing
Not vault them. . . .?’
*93* 2. Simcox, George Augustus (1841-1905), eldest son of George Price
Simcox of Manchester. Educ. Kidderminster Grammar School. Corpus,
Oxford 1858; 1st Mods i860; ist Greats 1862; 3rd Law and History 1862;
Ireland Sch. 1861, Craven 1862. President of Union 1866. Fellow of
Queen’s 1863; lecturer and librarian 1866. Published several poetical
works: Prometheus Unbound, A Tragedy, 1867 (‘. , . I admire it extremely*,
GMH wrote to Baillie: see LL, iii. 229) ; Orpheus, Jephthah's Daughter (short
dramatic poems), and Joan of Arc in the Comhill, 1867; and Poems and
Romances, 1869. With his younger brother William Henry (Fellow of
Queen’s 1864-70), edited a number of classical texts; also wrote some
periodical art criticism. His best-known work is his History of Latin Litera-
from Ennius to Boethius, 2 vols, 1883. ‘Besides being amiable is the
'’^ost eccentric and witty man I ever met*, GMH wrote to his mother,
20 Oct. 1869 (^^> id* 108); and his eccentricity is well seen in his book
^collections of a Rambler, 1874. He remained an Anglican while many of his
hiends were joining the Roman Church, An anonymom Letter to G. A.
4o6 notes to journal
Simcox was published in 1866 by a friend justifying his conversion. He
disappeared mysteriously on the north coast of Ireland in 1905.
194. I. A Secretis: the local slang name at Manresa House for the novice
whose household task it was to clean out the water-closets (taken from a
low-Latin term based on the imperial forms ‘a libellis*, ‘ab epistulis’, &€.,
and meaning ‘Officer in charge of*).
195. I. Fr. Rawes" church', the Church of St Francis, Pottery Lane, just off
Portland Road, Notting Hill and about | mile NW. of the Convent of Poor
Clares, where GMHhad made his resolution of 23 Aug. 1867 (see p. 152).
Built by generosity of H. A. Rawes and consecrated 2 Feb. i860. Heija-y
Augustus Rawes (1825-85), educated Houghton-le-Spring GS (where his
father was headmaster) and Trinity, Cambridge, was ordained in Anglia^n
Church 1851. Warden, House of Charity, Soho 1854. Joined the Roma^n
Church 1856. One of the original Oblate Fathers of St Charles, Manning’s
foundation at St Mary of the Angels, Bayswater 1857. Priest same year;
put in charge of Notting Hill district, where he built his Church of St
Francis. Prefect of Studies, St Charles’s College 1870. From 1879 to his
death Superior, Oblate Prathers, Bayswater. Founder, Society of Servants
of the Holy Ghost; author of many devotional books; made DD by the
Pope 1875.
195, 2. Anne Catherine Emmerich (1774-1824) entered the Augustinian Con-
vent of Agnetenberg, at Diilmen, Westphalia when she was 28, and after
its suppression in 1812 continued to live under her vows in lodgings or
the houses of friends. She was a stigmatic and visionary. The most re-
markable series of her visions was that in which she passed as an eye-
witness through the scenes of Christ’s passion ; an account of these, as of
other visions, was taken down from her dictation by Klemens Brentano,
edited by him, and published in 1833. An anonymous English translation
was published in 1862 under the title The Dolorous Passion of Our Lord
Jesus Christ; from the Meditations of Anne Catherine Emmerich. It was prob-
ably a reading from this edition which so moved Hopkins.
This is the beginning of her account of the agony in the garden:
Tt was about nine o’clock when Jesus reached Gethsemani with his
disciples. The moon had risen and already gave light in the sky, although
the earth was still dark, Jesus was most sorrowful, and told his Apostles
that danger was at hand. The disciples felt uneasy, and he told eight of
those who were following him, to remain in the Garden of Gethsemani
whilst he went on to pray. He took with him Peter, James, and John, and
going on a little further, entered into the Garden of Olives. No words
can describe the sorrow which then oppressed his soul, for the time of
trial was near. John asked him how it was that he, who had hitherto
always consoled them, could now be so dejected? “A/y soul is sorrowful
even unto death**, was his reply. And he beheld sufferings and temptations
surrounding him on all sides, and drawing nearer and nearer, under the
forms of frightful figures borne on clouds. Then it was that he said to the
three Apostles : ‘*Stay you here and watch with me. Pray, lest ye enter into
temptation** went a few steps to the left down a hill, and concealed
NOTES TO JOURNAL 407
himself beneath a rock, in a grotto about six feet deep, while the Apostles
remained in a species of hollow above. The earth sank gradually the
further you entered this grotto, and the plants which were hanging from
the rock screened its interior like a curtain, from persons outside.
‘When Jesus left his disciples I saw a number of frightful figures sur-
rounding him in an ever narrowing circle.
‘His sorrow and anguish of soul continued to increase, and he was
trembling all over when he entered the grotto to pray, like a wayworn
traveller hurriedly seeking shelter from a sudden storm, but the awful
visions pursued him even there, and became more and more clear and
distinct. Alas ! this small cavern appeared to contain the awful picture of
all the sins which had been or were to be committed from the fall of Adam
to the end of the world, and of the punishment which they deserved. It
was here, on Mount Olivet, that Adam and Eve took refuge when driven
out of Paradise to wander homeless on earth, and they had wept and
bewailed themselves in this very grotto.’
195* 3* Caesar* s Camp is a circular earthwork S. of Wimbledon Common.
196. I . Dec, 31, i 8 yo . . . washed. A note added on left-hand page of MS.
196. 2. St. Joseph* s church opened. The 1861 map of the Manresa grounds in
Letters and Notices shows a St Joseph’s Chapel to the SE. of the house well
inside the Alton Road entrance. This seems to have been abandoned in
favour of a church near the Roehampton Lane entrance. GMH wrote to
his mother i Mar. 1870: ‘We have got a little iion church in our grounds
now, on the right hand as you come in. It is not yet opened’ (LL, iii. no).
The existing St Joseph’s church, served by the Jesuit Fathers for local
Catholic people, is on the left of the Roehampton Lane gate, an unpre-
tentious brick-and-stone building designed by Br Michael Fern and begun
in 1878 {The Jesuit Directory, 1921).
196. 3. In the first week . . . often heard. Crossed out in ink, possibly by Hopkins.
197. I. E.g. . . . again. A note inserted here from bottom of MS page.
197. 2. Byrne, ]ohn (1841-1909), entered the Society as a lay brother 1869,
and took his last vows Feb. 1880. He was an immensely big man. His chief
work was nursing the sick, which he did with kindness and patience.
198. I. Yates, Arthur (1851-1912), b. Dublin. Educ. Clongowes. Entered
novitiate at Roehampton 1869. His life as a priest was spent as Prefect-
General at St Francis Xavier’s College, Liverpool and on English Missions.
199. I. Considine, Daniel HefFernan (1849-1922), b. Derk House, Lime-
rick. Educ. Stonyhurst and wanted to be a Jesuit, but was sent, so that he
should not hurry, to Lincoln College, Oxford: he only stayed there 18
months, and joined the novitiate Feb. 1870. Priest 1881 ; last vows 1885.
Prefect of Studies at Beaumont. Rector and Master of Novices, Roehamp-
ton 1894-1908. Rector of the College at Wimbledon 1908-13; from 1913
to death he lived at Farm Street. He was one of the most saintly priests of
his time; he was not a great preacher; was personally reserv^, even im-
gainly; was sometimes astonishingly ignorant of ordinary life: but his
4o8 notes to journal
prayerfulness and knowledge of God were seen at once by the many people
who went to his retreats or consulted him or were his penitents. Even in
old age he often spent a great part of the night in the chapel. There are
three pamphlets of his instructions published by the GTS, Words of En-
couragement^ and a short memoir with portrait, Father Daniel Considine^ by
Fr Devas SJ (GTS.).
2. . . .first week of April. In MS a full-stop after ‘April’ is crossed out; and
from this point on it is Hopkins’s normal rule to put no stop at the end of a
paragraph.
199. 3. Perhaps the zodiacal light. Inserted from left-hand page of MS.
199. 4. Gordon^ Pedro Garlos (1852-91), belonged to a Hispano-Scottidh
family living partly in Aberdeenshire and partly at Jerez de la Frontei^,
nr Gadiz; b. at Jerez; educ, in Spain, at the Oratory, Birmingham, and
at the Jesuit Gollege at Feldkirch in Tyrol. Entered novitiate at Manresa
1870. Ordained 1885. He was a practical man, a good Procurator of the
Gollege Estates at Stonyhurst, where he was also Prefect of Philosophers
and Rector for a short time before his death.
199.5. Ribadeneira^ Pedro de (1526-1611), b. at Toledo. Entered SJ 18
Sept. 1540. His chief work was the organization of the Society in Germany
and the Low Gountries. His great life of St Ignatius Loyola first appeared
in Latin 1572; ist Spanish edn 1583.
199. 6. It\s inscapel &c. Hopkins’s brackets.
200. I . I took my vows. His first vows at the end of the 2 years* probation.
See appx VI.
200. 2. To Stonyhurst to the seminary. St Mary’s Hall, the college where
young Jesuits then did their 3 years’ philosophy, was separated by a small
wood from the grounds of Stonyhurst Gollege. For Flopkins’s description
of the Seminary and Gollege see LL, i. 181 ; and, for a full account of the
students’ life at St Mary’s Hall (from 191 1 to 1914), Obedient Men by Denis
Meadows, Longmans, 1955, pt. 2. Since 1926, the Jesuits have done their
philosophy at Heythrop Gollege, Ghipping Norton.
201 . i. On April 2 g . . . brilliant though is on left-hand page of MS and should
evidently be inserted here.
201. 2. the ground in one comer of the garden. A verbal tradition in the Society
of Jesus confirms this story. A form of it was published in French by Andr6
Bremond, SJ, in Etudes, 5 Oct. 1934. Denis Meadows gives his own account
in Obedient Men (cited above), pp. 142-3. As a novice at St Mary’s Hall,
Stonyhurst, shortly before the 1914-18 War, he asked an old lay brother
for any details he could remember of GMH. One of Hopkins’s special
delights, said the brother, was the path from the Seminary to the Gollege.
After a shower, he would run and crouch down to gaze at the crushed
quartz glittering as the sun came out again. ‘ “Ay, a strange yoong man”,
said the old brother, “crouching down that gate to stare at some wet sand.
A fair natural ’e seemed to us, that Mr. ’opkins”.’
NOTES TO JOURNAL ^
ao3. I. Grisi, Giulia, die well-known soprano prima-donna; b. i8n d
25 Nov. 1869 m Berlin. Had popular successes in many parte, but especi’ally
in that of Norma. Made many appearances at Covent Garden
No evidence to show whether Hopkins had ever heard her sing. ^
202. 2. Fasting girL Sarah Jacobs, the daughter of a Welsh farmer of
Lletherneud, died at 3 o’clock on 17 Dec., aged 13, after a supposed fast
of over 2 years. She was a member of the Church of Wales, and after an
early confirmation devoted herself to religious reading. When she was 1 1
she was seized with a vomiting of blood and took to her bed, where she
stayed till death. Her devotion increased in her illness. Her parents asserted
that she refused all food and drink except that her lips were moistened with
water once a fortnight. The neighbours, though mostly Protestants, treated
her with fearful reverence, and she was seen ‘lying in her bed, decorated as
a bride, having round her head a wreath of flowers*. After she had been
examined by a Dr Fowler, four nurses were sent from Guy’s Hospital to
keep a watch over her, beginning at 4 o’clock on Thursday 9 Dec. Their
chief duty was apparently to see that she did not take food, and they were
of course reprimanded at the inquest. The morning after her death The
Times had a fourth leader implying from the fact that she only died after
the watching began that the ‘fasting’ had been a systematic deception,
even of her parents, due to ‘simulative hysteria’; adding that if she ‘had
chanced to be born in some corner of France or Italy in which Romanism
flourished unchecked, her prolonged fasting, after a great devotion to
religious reading and a pious submission to ecclesiastical ordinances, would
have assumed all the circumstances of a miracle’.
202. 3. Prince Pierre Bonaparte, cousin of Napoleon III, retired into private
life under Second Empire, was bitterly attacked in the Marseillaise as a
renegade republican. He wrote the Editor, Henri Rochefort, a letter as
good as a challenge. Paschal Grousset, author of the articles, took responsi-
bility, and sent Victor Noir and Ulric Fonvielle to wait on Bonaparte as
his seconds; both went armed. In a quarrel and scuffle, of which the
parties gave conflicting accounts, Noir was shot. Bonaparte was later
acquitted of homicide but ordered to pay 25,000 francs (r. £1,000) in-
demnity to Noir’s parents.
202 • 4. Lucas, Vrain-Denis (b, 1818), son of a peasant at Chateaudun,
convicted of an astonishing scries of forgeries of literary autographs, for
which he had been paid nearly £6,000. He began with forging a long
correspondence between Pascal and Newton, the effect of which would
have been, if it had been genuine, to exalt the one and discredit the other
in the history of astronomy. These he sold to M. Chasles, mathematician
and astronomer, who persuaded many members of the Academie des
Sciences of their authenticity. They were quickly attacked in pamphlets,
but new letters were at once produced to get over the difficulties. In the
end it appeared that Lucas had also forged letters of Galileo, Thales,
Alexander the Great, Lazarus, St Mary Magdalene, various apostles and
emperors, Plato, Pliny, Pompey, Seneca, Cleopatra, Shakespeare, Rabe-
lais, Louis XIV, and others. See J. A. Farrer, Literary Forgeries (1907).
410 NOTES TO JOURNAL
202* 5. On the 15th inserted from left-hand page of MS.
202. 6. Capture of the English *Lords\ . . . On the i ith a party consisting of
Lord and Lady Muncastcr, Mr Frederick Vyner, Mr Edward Henry
Charles Herbert (secretary to the British Legation at Athens), Mr Edward
Lloyd (special correspondent of the Standard) with wife and child of 5, and
Count Boyl (of the Italian Legation) were captured at about 4.30 returning
from a visit to Marathon. The ladies and child were sent back to Athens
and a ransom of £25,000 demanded for the rest. Lord Muncastcr was sent
off to negotiate; the negotiations failed; the brigands were pursued by
Greek troops, and in flight murdered their prisoners.
202 . 7. The entries for 25 Apr., qi May, and i June are inserted from left-
hand page of MS. ^
202.8. Maclise, Daniel (1811-70; see DNB)^ portraitist and historical
painter, is now probably best remembered for his frescoes in the House of
Lords; for his series of portraits of contemporary celebrities in Fraser's
Magazine, reproduced in The Maclise Portrait Gallery, ed. W. Bates, 1871;
and for his long intimate friendship with Dickens and his circle. In fact,
his view of many famous historical episodes has probably impressed itself
on many more minds than could give the source of their impressions.
202. 9. Sir John Simeon (1815-70), 3rd Baronet, of Swainston Hall, Newport,
Isle of Wight, was uncle of GMH's acquaintance Philip Simeon (see p.
352) and father of John Simeon whom he had taught at the Oratory
School. Sir John was a Roman Catholic, landlord, Master of Foxhounds,
and Liberal MP for the Isle of Wight 1847-51 and 1865-70. His Catholic
friend and neighbour, W. G. Ward, opposed him in the 1865 election
because of his Liberalism. Simeon was a deeply loved friend of Tennyson,
and his admiration of the early unreprinted verses in The Tribute (1837) led
to the writing of Maud. The poem ‘To Sir John Simeon: in the Garden at
Swainston’ was written on the afternoon of the funeral, while Tennyson
smoked one of the dead man’s pipes. See Wilfrid Ward, W. G. Ward and the
Catholic Revival, esp. pp. 228-31 ; Tennyson and his Friends, ed. Hallam, Lord
Tennyson, pp. 306-21 ; Charles Tennyson, Alfred Tennyson, esp. pp. 280-1,
388-9. No evidence has been found of more direct contact between the
Hopkinses and Sir John Simeon than the link through the Oratory School.
202. 10. Sappho. Cf. LL, iii. 116-17, and Abbott’s note on p. 117.
202. II. Grant, Thomas (1816-70; see DNB), first Roman Catholic Bp of
Southwark; had been active in the negotiations leading to the establish-
ment of the English hierarchy. Much loved and trusTed by people of many
kinds and classes. See esp. Edward Bellasis, Memorials of Mr Serjeant
Bellasis, pp. 149-52; Life by ‘Grace Ramsay’. Though suffering from
cancer of the stomach, Dr Grant attended the Vatican Council and died in
Rome.
202. 1 2. Hon. Francis Charteris, b. 1844, eldest son ofViscount Elcho later loth
Earl of Wemyss, had been an Etonian contemporary, a year junior, of
GMH at Balliol. He was found shot after breakfast in his room in his
NOTES TO JOURNAL
411
father’s house. Verdict : ‘That the death of the deceased was the result of
accident by the discharge of a pistol while in his hand.’
203- I. H.M.S. Captain (4,272 tons; 900 h.p.; double screw; also carried
canvas) was one of the early ironclad ‘turret-ships’, built to the design of
Capt. Cowper Coles : her turrets carried six guns. She foundered in squally
weather off Cape Finisterre while with her squadron. Most of her crew of
500 were drowned. Among the drowned was Reginald Herbert, son of
Lady Herbert of Lea, who had become a Roman Catholic in 1865 (see
p. 419, n. 227. 4), though the children had to be brought up as Protestants.
For GMH this would have given an extra poignancy to the wreck.
203. 2. Aurora, Date given as 24th in Annual Register.
203. 3. De Morgan, Augustus (1806 — 18 Mar. 1871 ; see DNB), Professor of
Mathematics in the University of London. Chiefly known for his popu-
larizing mathematics in the Athenaeum, The Penny Encyclopaedia, Notes &
Qiieries, &c. Many of his lighter papers reappeared in A Budget of Paradoxes
(1872). He made valuable contributions to serious mathematics. He was
the father of William de Morgan, the potter and novelist.
203, 4. By throes perhaps . . . hollow bubbles inserted from left-hand page.
2 o 6. I. violets. There is no necessary connexion between colour and smell.
The ‘white violets’ were white forms of Viola odorata. The blue scentless
ones were one of the kinds of ‘dog violet’, probably V. riviniana, or possibly
V. reichenbachiana. The distinction GMH makes between the leaves is
rather obscure to a botanist.
207. I. Later rippling as in the drawing: may refer to the drawing on p. 205.
208. I. Bacon, Francis Edward (1839-1923) ; born in Hackney of Protestant
parents; after disliking business, became a schoolmaster; worked as school-
master, catechist, and lay reader in Georgetown, BG, and at St. Peter’s,
London Docks. Planned to take Anglican orders; joined Roman Church
1866. After a year in a Lisbon seminary, entered novitiate SJ Oct. 1867.
Priest, 19 Sept. 1875. His great work was done in Glasgow at St Aloysius
College and at the working boys’ club which he founded and managed till
death. Restlessness and uncertain health made him unable to face the
tertianship; but by special permission he took his last vows in 1918 ^
Spiritual Coadjutor. Among Fam. Papers is a religious ballad, ‘St Peter s
Midnight Mass’, initialled ‘F.E.B.’ and with the specially Jesuit signs
AMDG and LDS; it is in 136 lines, much influenced by ‘The Ancient
Mariner’. Up to 1884 {LL, i. 196), he was the only Jesuit who h^ad seen any
considerable number of Hopkins’s poems; he much admired them and his
sermons, and some texts have survived only in his careful copies. At the
time of Fr Keating’s articles on GMH in The Month Fr Bacon wrote to lum:
‘What a pity his verse was not appreciated before by SJ. s: as yo-
vincial tells me there is a difficulty in publishing about copyright (16 Aug.
1909). And again, 18 Sept. 1909: ‘I am grateful to you for the Im^es-
sions” and for the opportunity you have given me of sending "
verses. Ours, though I regret that he received so little recognition from
412
NOTES TO JOURNAL
“ours** during his life, I mean in regard to his poetic endowments. I vene-
rated him as a saintly man, and especially in his great humility, and
cheerful submission to the Will of God under much depreciation and many
disappointments. May he pray for me.*
2o8. 2. Found some daffodils .... A piece of the page is here cut out, which
probably had an unsatisfactory drawing on it.
2o8. 3. or silver of silver inserted here by Hopkins’s mark from left-hand
page.
211. I. Horned Violet: Viola cornuta, a native of Spain, cultivated in gardeiu.
211 . 2. comfrey. ‘Pinion* probably refers to the distal portion of the inflo-
rescence (cf. pinion = distal portion of a bird’s wing). In comfrey and
other members of the family Boraginaceae^ the young inflorescence is coil^
into a spiral before opening.
212 . I. ;(;aA/c€ov ovpavov^ ‘brazen heaven’, the firmament being thought of
as a metallic vault. MS omits ist accent. When, in his poem of 7 Sept.
1865 {Poems y p. 36), GMH adapted this phrase to a state of spiritual
desolation —
‘My prayers must meet a brazen heaven
And fail or scatter all away’
— he apparently had in mind its whole context in Homer, //. xvii. 424-5 :
GL^peios 8* opvpiaySog
^oA/ceov ovpavov Ike 8t* alBipos (XTpvyeTOLO.
‘The iron clang went up to the brazen heaven through the air where no
harvest is reaped.’ For his second stanza begins:
‘My heaven is brass and iron my earth.*
Gf. ‘dintlcss heaven’, p. 58.
212. 2. The two rocks . . . Aug, 28 inserted from left-hand page: the following
entry is bracketed by Hopkins.
213. I. AVrr, Henry Schomberg (1838-95), brother of Fr William Kerr SJ
(sec p. 402) and of Mother Henrietta Kerr. Their father, Lord Henry Kerr
of Hun tly burn, had been Rector of Ditlisham, Devon, and joined the
Catholic Church after the Gorham case in 1850. The children were re-
ceived soon afterwards. Henry Schomberg joined the navy in 1851 after a
short time at Winchester, served in the Crimean War, and reached the
rank of commander when only 28. He had many doubts about his voca-
tion, and it was largely the prayers and example of his sister which led him
to join the novitiate SJ in 1867. Many interesting details of the novitiate
at this time (when Hopkins was also at Manresa) are given from Kerr’s
journals in Henry Schomberg Kerr, Sailor and Jesuit by his cousin Hon. Mrs
Maxwell-Scott, and there is also an account as from a sailor of the voyage
from Greenock to Inellan. Unfortunately there are no reminiscences of
Hopkins. Kerr was ordained in 1875, worked for a time in Glasgow and
Cyprus, and from 1880 to 1885 was chaplain to the Marquis of Ripon when
Viceroy of India. From 1890 to his death he was Superior of the Zambesi
Mission.
NOTES TO JOURNAL 413
213 . 2. ^The Battle of Dorking: Reminiscences of a Volunteer’ was the title
of an article in Blackwood" s Magazine, May 1871, giving a brilliantly vivid
account, supposed to be told 50 years later, of the defeat of an English
army, composed chiefly of volunteers, at Dorking, by invading [Prussian]
forces advancing on London. It showed effectively the weakness of army
organization, with the greater part of the regular troops on service abroad ;
it aimed to show also how insecure was English prosperity, based on
imports and a growing population of manufacturers working for what was
only a temporary market. The weakest practical part of the narrative was
the total defeat of the Home Fleet in the Channel by means of ‘fatal
engines’ (apparently a newly invented type of mine). Gladstone called the
article a piece of ‘alarmism’. As a sixpenny pamphlet it ran through many
editions. The anonymous author was Lt-Gol. (later General Sir) George
Tomkyns Ghesney (1830-95; see DNB), who wrote a number of propa-
gandist novels and articles on military and social subjects, and was Con-
servative MP for Oxford 1892. For GMH’s thoughts on ‘the Revolution’
at this time, see especially the often-quoted letter to Bridges of 2 Aug.
1871 {LL, i. 27-28).
214 . I. Chapel Royal: properly the abbey church. It is not clear which are
the ‘two low arches’ to which GMH refers. The choir-screen arch of
Glasgow Cathedral with which he compares them is a very flat ‘Tudor’
arch : it has no ‘downward lleurdelys’, but is decorated on top with a run
of tracery like that in the E. window in Holyrood Chapel Royal. In ‘Our
Wander-Book’, vol. ii, arc professional photographs, dated 1878, of the
Chapel Royal and of Glasgow Cathedral, showing the choir-screen arch.
214 . 2. Napier" s shipbuilding yard. Robert Napier & Sons’ shipbuilding yard
at Govan was opened by Robert Napier (1791-1876) in 1841. He began
building iron ships in 1850, and during the next 25 years the firm built
over 300. He and his cousin David Napier ( 1 790-1869) played an immense
part in developing the Glasgow shipbuilding industry.
214 . 3 . Leslie, William Eric (1826-1917): see biography of his mother
Eleanor Leslie by J. M. Stone (1898). His father came from Balnageith,
Morayshire. The son was to have taken Anglican orders, then thought of
joining the army; but went to King’s College, London, and later entered
a surveyor’s office in Oxford. He there came under the influence of the
Tractarians and in 1848 followed his mother and two sisters into the
Roman Church. He became a Jesuit novice 1849, and was ordained priest
at Brixen in the Tyrol 24 July 1859, at the same time as Fr Clare (see ist edn,
p. 432) and Fr Walter Clifford (see p. 438). At the time he took Hopkins’s
retreat he was working on English Missions. The last 34 years of his life
he was at Farm Street.
215 . I, Ruskin on Turner" s *Pass of Faido". Modern Painters, pt. v, chap. ii. ‘Of
Turnerian Topography’ (ed. Cook and Wedderburn, vi. 38) : ‘This is
especially to be remembered with respect to the next incident — the intro-
duction of figures. Most persons to whom I have shown the drawing, and
who feel its general character, regret that there is any living thing in it;
they say it destroys the majesty of its desolation. But the dream said not so
4H NOTES TO JOURNAL
to Turner. The dream insisted particularly on the great fact of its having
come by the road. The torrent was wild, the storms were wonderful, but
the most wonderful thing of all was how we ourselves, the dream and I,
ever got here. By our feet we could not — by an ivory gate we could not —
in no other wise could we have come than by the coach road.’
The drawing has a very small coach and horses in the middle-distance.
The plate of it in Modern Painters was engraved by Ruskin, who put over
against it a drawing of the pass marked ‘Simple Topography’.
215. 2. Netley Abbey. 2J miles W. of Bursledon, on Southampton Water.
Cistercian, founded 1239: church finished early 14th century. There ajre
many famous descriptions of its beauty, e.g. letters of Horace Walpole Ito
Bentley (Sept. 1 755) and of Thomas Gray to James Brown (Sept, i yGii)
and to Norton Nicholls (19 Nov. 1764). Two photographs dating fro^
this visit are in the Hopkins family album. ‘Our Wander-Book’, vol. i. (i)
shows dead tree in NW. corner of nave; inside position of triplet windows
on S. side of nave, ‘hooded under arches’ ; and one set of three-light lancets
in S. transept. (2) shows, on the left, outside of triplet windows on S. side
of nave, ‘flush with the wall’, above where was the cloister roof ; inside, they
have deep sloping sills, because the wall was thickened, the cloister making
outside buttresses impossible. The two quasi- triforium arches at S. end of
S. transept clearly were divided into three lights each, with a quaterfoiled
roundel at head of the middle light: they appear, together with others of
Hopkins’s points, in a drawing on p. 324 of Highways and Byways in Hamp-
shire by D. H. M. Read ( 1 908) . A small photograph of same date in another
Hopkins family album shows the E. window, its sill covered with ivy and
with ivy twining up its one surviving mullion.
215. 3. S. side of the nave. Here a piece of the page is cut out, evidently with
a discarded drawing.
216. I. Victoria Military Hospital, Netley, founded after the Crimean War,
‘loads the shore with its costly ugliness’.
216. 2. V-shaped appearance in the sky. Cf. GMH’s letters to Nature, issues of
16 Nov. 1882 and 15 Nov. 1883, reprinted in LL, ii, appx ii.
217. I . At 8. JO . . . sky. This is a very rare thing to see.
217. 2. The Titchborne Trial. Roger Tichborne, b. 1829, eldest son of [Sir]
James Doughty Tichborne, was brought up in France, educated for three
years in ‘Philosophy’ at Stonyhurst; commissioned in 6 Dragoon Guards
and served 3J years mainly in Ireland; paid unsuccessful court to his
cousin; travelled in S. America and was lost at sea in 1854. His father
subsequently succeeded to baronetcy and estate^ and died 1862; his
mother, whom GMH called ‘a trifle touched’, believed in her son’s sur-
vival, and advertised, with offers of reward. In 1866 this produced ‘the
Claimant’, who had lived in Australia 13 years under the name Castro.
He and his abettors learnt enough of Roger Tichborne’s life to persuade
the mother he was her son, though expanded from former slightness into
a vast man of 20 stone, having forgotten all the French which was the
language of his boyhood. After preliminary filing of affidavits in Court of
Chancery, Lady Tichborne died 1868. An ejectment action, promoted by
NOTES TO JOURNAL 415
persons with financial interests, was brought {Tichhome v. Lushington)
against the tenant of the Tichborne Trustees. Hearing began in Court of
Common Pleas ii May 1871 before Chief Justice Bovill and special jury.
The jury having said they needed no further evidence, a non-suit was
entered on 6 Mar. 1872. The Claimant, in the name Arthur Orton, was
immediately committed for perjury (see p. 427).
Everything turned on identity; each phase of Roger Tichborne’s
known life was examined in minute detail. Jesuits were specially interested
in Stonyhurst period, elaborately explored in cross-examination of the
Claimant on 13 and 14 June 1871 (see GMH’s letter to his mother, 17
June 1871). The Claimant could not remember what Fathers had taught
Tichborne; he confused ‘seminary’ and ‘cemetery’, and did not know
what a quadrangle was. Even with a text he thought Virgil wrote in Greek.
He could not interpret AMDG and LDS on Stonyhurst exercises and books,
and translated Laus Deo Semper ‘the laws of God for ever, or permanently’,
knowing some Spanish. He curiously maintained he lived much of his time
at Stonyhurst in a ‘cottage*, instead of in either the main College or the
separate ‘Seminary’. This explains GMH’s writing to his mother: ‘The real
Titchborne’s room when the “philosophers” lived here was in the floor
below where I am writing. This cottage is more than twice as big as Mr.
Gurney Hoare’s house.’ In various ways the proceedings were given an
anti-Jesuit turn (sec lower note). Vanity Fair, 10 June 1871, published an
‘Ape’ caricature of the Claimant, Men of the Day, No. 25, ‘Baronet or
Butcher*. For full and recent discussion of the case see Michael Gilbert,
The Claimant, and J. D. Woodruff, The Tichborne claimant; a Victorian
mystery, both 1957.
2 i 8. I. Ballantine, William (1812-87; see DNB), gave in Some Experiences of
a Barrister's Life (1882) among his reasons for accepting the brief his
confidence that Lady Tichborne the mother was ‘truthful, and fully alive
to the gravity of her declaration*. He also said that, if the case had been
false, abler handling by counsel at the stage of the Chancery affidavits
ought to have been able to stop it then.
218. 2. Giffard, Hardinge Stanley (1823-1921), later ist Earl of Halsbury,
whose Laws of England is the standard digest. Defended Governor Eyre
1867. Conducted the examination-in-chief of the Tichborne Claimant,
30 May to I June 1871. In 1882 he won the famous verdict for the plaintiff
inBeltw.Lawes (seeLL, i. 169). Lord Chancellor 1885; 1886-92; 1895-1905.
2 i8. 3. Jeune, Francis Henry (1843-1905; see DNB), son of Bp Jeune of
Peterborough; senior contemporary at Balliol of GMH, who knew him;
he is ‘Young’ in Geldart’s A Son of Belial (see LL, iii. 254) ; ist Mods 1863
and Greats 1865. He investigated the Tichborne evidence in Australia in
1 869. Later appeared in many ecclesiastical cases, usually on the evange-
lical side. Judge 1891. ist Baron St Helier 1905. See Lady St Helier,
Memories of Fifty Tears, 1 909.
2i8« 4. Hon\e\yman, Sir George Essex (1819-75; see DNB), appeared in fact
with Coleridge and Hawkins for the defendants, not as GMH says. Started
legal life in a solicitor’s office; then special pleader; called to bar 1849.
4i6 notes to journal
Succeeded father as 4th Baronet 1863. Judge of Court of Common Pleas
1873. Some contemporary reports mis-spell his name as GMH does.
9ti8« 5. John Duke Coleridge (1820-94; see DNB)^ great-nephew of S. T.
Coleridge; Fellow, Exeter College, Oxford 1843-6; called to bar 1846;
Recorder of Portsmouth 1855; known as ‘Golden-tongued Coleridge*.
Somebody said he would enjoy listening to him ‘if he only read out a page
of Bradshaw*. Liberal MP for Exeter 1865-73. Solicitor-General and
knighted 1868; Attorney-General 1871. His cross-examination of the
Claimant, lasting 22 days, turned the scale against him. On 12 June 1871
the Claimant said to Coleridge in court, about a detail of French Catholic
practice: ‘You appear to be very innocent just now. Considering that vour
brother is a Jesuit, you must know.’ The reply was: ‘I don’t know that I
am to submit to that from anybody. I have the highest love, regard, and
veneration for my brother’ {The Tichborne Romance', a Full and Acetate
Report . . . of Tichborne v. Lushington for Forty Days, Simpkin Marshall, 18^1,
p. 193). For Fr Henry James Coleridge SJ, see p. 163 and n. : his moving
letter to his brother after this incident speaks of ‘the tender love that is
between us’ (E. H. Coleridge, Life and Correspondence of John Duke, Lord
Coleridge, ii. 187, where is a defence of the long cross-examination). John
Duke Coleridge was Chief Justice of Common Pleas 1873 and of Queen’s
Bench 1880; became ist Baron Coleridge 1874.
2i8. 6. Hawkins, Henry (1817-1907; see DNB); began legal work in office
of his father, a Hitchin solicitor; special pleader; called to bar 1843.
Appeared with Bovill in the Roupell forgery case 1862 (see p. 318); and
for defendants in various unsuccessful prosecutions after the Overend and
Gurney failure (see p. 348), According to Herbert Stephen’s DNB article,
Hawkins, when retained for defence in Tichborne ejectment action,
expected to cross-examine plaintiff and was much disappointed when
Coleridge became Attorney-General and, as such, leader of defence;
Hawkins only cross-examined some lesser witnesses, though ably. However,
he led for the Crown in the perjury trial (sec p. 427). Later he was a suc-
cessful criminal judge, unfairly nicknamed ‘Hanging Hawkins’, but a
failure through indecisiveness in civil cases. Became ist Baron Brampton
1899, and a Roman Catholic shortly before death.
218. 7. George Grote, banker, historian of Greece, radical politician, advocate
of the ballot, &c., died 18 June 1871. On a visit to Christ Church in May
1863 was lionised by undergraduates, and a don said to Mrs Grote: ‘Grote
and Mill may be said to have revived the study of the two master sciences —
History and Mental Philosophy — among the ..Oxford undergraduates*
(Mrs Grote, Personal Life of George Grote, 1873, p. 268). GMH wrote to
LCH, I Mar. 1889, about Grote’s History of Greece, that ‘so able, learned,
and earnest a study’ could hardly ever be antiquated {LL, iii. 191).
2i8. 8. De Rancd*s conversion, Armand-Jean Ic Bouthillicr dc Ranc6 (1626-
1700) became Canon of Notre Dame de Paris and Abbot of La Trappe in
commendam at the age of 1 1. He was ordained priest in 1651 ; in 1652 by the
death of his father he inherited further estates in addition to his already
immense revenues. He lived a successful worldly life, devoted chiefly to
NOTES TO JOURNAL 417
hunting, preaching, and the service of the Duchess of Montbazon. His
conversion was in three stages. In 1657 at the death of the Duchess he
began a more priestly life; the death in 1660 of the Duke of Orleans moved
him to dispose of all his possessions except La Trappe. The final stage of his
conversion came while he was living at La I'rappe voluntarily under
monastic discipline though not yet a religious. The decision to enter the
novitiate, and when professed to become the Regular Abbot and reformer
of his monastery, was brought about on 17 Apr. 1663.
‘At length, one day after mass he was making his prayer of thanksgiving
in the church at La Trappe, while the monks were singing Sext in the office
of our Blessed Lady. The words rang out clearly in his ears, Qui confidunt in
Domino^ sicut mens Sion, and then the full choir took up the remaining strophe
of the verse, Non commovebitur in aeternum, qui habitat in Jerusalem! The verse
sank into his heart with wonderful light and heavenly power, and he was a
changed man. . . .’
This is from the account in the current issue of The Month (Mar .-Apr.
1872, vol. xvi), by Fr H. J. Coleridge, based on what is still the most
authoritative life, Histoire de VAbbe de Rand et de sa Reforme . . . par M.
I’Abb^ Dubois, Paris, 1866.
219. I. de Smet, Pierre-Jean (1801—73), b. at Termonde in Belgium. Went
to America in 1821 and entered the Jesuit novitiate at Whitemarsh, near
Baltimore. In 1823 was chosen for the new Novitiate near St Louis, which
afterwards became the Catholic University of St Louis. Ordained priest
1827. In 1838 he began his famous work as missionary to the Indians;
his various mission stations covered an immense area in central and NW.
America. In 1851 he acted as peacemaker between emigrants and the
Indians, who had a great respect for him. He also mediated in the ‘Mor-
mon War’, He crossed the Atlantic sixteen times to gel support and recruits
for his work from nearly every country in Europe. A twenty-two-page
letter from de Smet was printed in Letters and Notices, Dec. 1868.
219. 2. John, SJ (1843-1921), entered the Society 1863. By training a
scientist. Taught science at Stonyhurst 1876-88. Worked in Worcester
1903-19. He was ordained priest 20 Sept. 1874 (see p. 260 and n.).
220. I. Dielytras, an earlier Latin name for the flower commonly called
Bleeding Heart ; the present scientific name is Dicentra spectabilis.
220* 2. fells No full-stop in MS. The word comes at the end of a page, but
not of a paragraph.
221. I. Baddely Library, The name is mis-spelt. Edward Badeley (d. 1868),
to whom Newman dedicated Verses on Various Occasions (i868), was an
ecclesiastical lawyer, friend of Hope-Scott and Bellasis (see DNB) ; became
Roman Catholic after the Gorham case, which he had argued before the
Privy Council. He bequeathed a general collection of books, with a good
theological section, to the House of Philosophy at Stonyhurst : it is now at
Heythrop College, Chipping Norton. The edition of Scotus is Scripium
Oxoniense super Sententiis, 2 vols, Venice, I5i4> printed by Gregorius de
Gregoriis. The Badeley copy originally belonged to the Abbey of Stavelot.
B 6628 E e
4i8 notes to journal
2. Scotus, Gf. pp. 236 and 249; Duns Scotus^s Oxford {Poems, p. 84);
GMH’s sermon of 5 Dec. 1879 on the Immaculate Conception {Sermons,
pp. 43-46), &c. For discussion of his Scotism, see especially two articles,
‘The Image and the Word’, by Revd Christopher Devlin, SJ ( The Month,
Feb. and March 1950) ; the ensuing correspondence with W. H. Gardner;
and Sermons, appx ii.
221* 3. a Manx song, Mr J. J. Kneen of the Manx Museum and Library,
Douglas, wrote for the first edn: ‘Most Manx songs arc known to me,
but I cannot recognise the words you give as representing the burden of
any song known to me at present.’ j
221. 4. pulling back: after these words in MS is a caret ‘Aug. 7 — see after
Aug. 8’. The entries are printed in chronological order. \
223. 1 . Uhe turns of the scaping from . . . [see next book — green with red edges]*
MS. The next book begins in mid-sentence with ‘the break and flood-
ing . . .’. \
224. I. Kirk Trinnian, The ruin is on the Douglas-Peel road. The buggane
refused to allow a roof to be built on the church, and Timothy the tailor
made a bet he would finish a pair of breeches before the buggane cast
down the next roof. The roof fell with a crash as he was putting in the last
stitch, and Timothy had to fly to hallowed ground. See (c.g.) Jenkinson's
Smaller Practical Guide to the Isle of Man, 2nd edn 1878, pp. 49-50.
226. I. Clitheroe Castle, The small, square, very strongly built Norman keep
survives, with fragments of the curtain wall.
226. 2. Fr. James Jones (1828-93) came of a Welsh-Irish family settled at
Benada Abbey, Co. Sligo. His elder brother Daniel had entered the Irish
Province SJ and made over the house and property to Mary Aikcnhead,
foundress of the Irish Sisters of Charity. James entered the English Pro-
vince 1850, after being at Clongowes Wood College. Read some of his
theology at Palermo; ordained there 1857. Worked in W. Indies, with
interval in Rome, till 1 868. After two years at Yarmouth, became Professor
of Moral Theology, St Beuno’s 1871 and Rector 1873. Provincial of
English Province 1876-80. Returned to St Beuno’s which he loved, and
where his teaching was very successful. Published Structure and Origin of the
Athanasian Creed (1875) and some pamphlets of controversy.
226. 3. Mr. Cyprian Splaine. Elder brother of William Splaine (see p. 442).
Educ. Stonyhurst, and taught there in the College 1869-74 and 1880-7.
Was one of the Jesuits who had seen some of Hopkins’s poetry in MS; but
he does not seem to have appreciated it {LL, i. 196). He was fond of long
walks, a very fluent and clear writer of Latin prose, and an excellent
schoolmaster.
226. 4. A sentence has here been deleted at the request of the Hopkins
family.
227. I. Fr, Maccann, M’Cann, Henry (1801-88), b. at Drogheda. Educ.
Stonyhurst. 1823 entered Jesuit novitiate in Rome. Ordained priest at
Stonyhurst 1836. Studied mathematics in Paris. 1844-55 worked in
4*9
NOTES TO JOURNAL
Calcutta, Rome, and Malta. Procurator of the English Province 1859. He
went to St. Mary’s Hall from Beaumont. His chief work was administrative.
227. 2. Harriet Bockett (1845-1928) was Harriet Isabella, daughter of
Daniel Smith Bockett of Heath House, Hampstead. Sister of Rebecca
Bockett (see p. 422). Daniel Bockett, ‘a man of much spirit’ (Baines,
p. 184) and a connexion by marriage of the Lord Chief Justice, Tindal, was
a prominent local churchman. On various Hampstead church and school
committees, and one of the original vestry men in 1855. But said at a
public meeting, 1859, he would not ‘bow to an ignorant rabble’, and lost
his vestry seat.
227. 3. Blandyke^ the Slonyhurst word for a monthly holiday, has a good
history. The ancestor of Stonyhurst was the College founded by the English
Jesuits at St Omer in 1592. Three miles from St Omer is a village Blan-
decques (or Blendecques) of which the name is said to be derived from
Blandae Aquae, those of the river Aa. The Jesuits of St Omer had a country-
house in the village to which the boys used to go on holidays in summer.
‘After three migrations and more than a century of banishment from the
spot its name still lives among their descendants’ (Stonyhurst Magazine,
Jan. 1882, q.v.). An alternative derivation suggested is that the word is a
corruption of Flemish Blank dyk and that the name of the village is a
subsequent gallicizing of it,
227. 4, Vaughan, Flerbert Alfred (1832-1903; see DNB), eldest son of Col.
John Francis Vaughan of Courlfield; founder of St. Joseph’s Missionary
College, Mill Hill 1866; later Cardinal Archbp of Westminster. Con-
secrated second Bp of Salford at St Johns Cathedral 26 Oct. 1872.
His predecessor William Turner (1800—72) had become first Bp, on
creation of the hierarchy, 25 July 1851. GMH described this reception of
the Bp more fully in a letter to Baillie (LL, iii. 238), in which he said:
‘I was bidden to write Greek and shed twentyfour iambics with much ado
but I was glad of it as it fell out as it raised a blister in my dry and shrunken
Greek and led me to begin reading the beautiful Iphigenia among the Taurx\
I wish I could have more of such reading.’ See J. G. Snead-Cox, Life of
Cardinal Vaughan, 1910, and Letters of Herbert Cardinal Vaughan to Lady
Herbert of Lea, ed. Shane Leslie, 1942, with Introduction by J. Brodnek,
SJ, an invaluable book for the details and sentiment of one side of Roman
Catholic life 1867-1903; there is no letter describing this Academy.
228. I, Joseph (1833-77), b. Chester; a railway engineer. Novice
SJ as a lay brother 1857. 1867 appointed Socius to Director of Stonyhurst
Observatory. Held this office also under Fr Perry, whom he accompanied
on an expedition to S. Spain, Made many improvements m the Observa-
tory instruments, some of which the Meteorological Office a opte
228. 2. Perry, Stephen Joseph, FRS (1833-89; see DNB), Novice 1853.
Priest 1866. 1860-3 and 1868-87 Professor of Mathematics and Director
of the Observatory at Stonyhurst. Astronomer of international reputation.
Accompanied various expeditions of the Royal Society to observe echpscs,
&c. Photographed the eclipsed sun at Salut Island off Guiana 22 Dec.
430
NOTES TO JOURNAL
1889 and died five days later on HMS Comus, See J. L. Gortie, SJ, Father
Perry ^ the Jesuit Astronomer (1890) with portrait, and Francis Thompson’s
poem ‘A Dead Astronomer’ — ‘Starry amorist, starward gone’.
228. 3. Starkey, Henry (1814-94), b. Whitehaven, Cumberland. Journey-
man ship carpenter. Lay novice 1845. Worked in various houses as car-
penter, sacristan, &c. Refectorian at the Seminary at Stonyhurst 1871-7.
228 . 4. Uncle Dick, Richard James Lane (1800-72 ; see DNB), line-engraver
and lithographer, had married Sophia Hodges and so was Hopkins’s
great-uncle. His mother was Gainsborough’s niece. Elected ARA *827
and exhibited frequently in RA from then to his death. His draj^^ing
of Princess Victoria aged 10 (1829) is his best-known original wlprk;
but his lithographs of Gainsborough, Lawrence, Landseer, &:c., alto-
gether numbered 1,046. He did a drawing (RA 1843) and a lithograph
(RA 1 864) of Dickens, and was an intimate friend of Kemble and A^c-
ready, who inspired several series of his theatrical lithographs. Elder
brother of Edward Lane, the Arabic scholar (see LL, iii. 241), and father
of Clara Lane (see p. 297). He was personally dignified and attractive.
228 . 5. Lucas, Herbert (1852-1933), was the son of Edward Lucas and
nephew of Frederick Lucas, the founder of the Tablet. These two brothers
were converts to the Catholic Church from Quakerism. Herbert, educated
at Beaumont, entered Jesuit novitiate 1869. His books include Fra Girolamo
Savonarola ( 1 899) and various meditations for boys. Published nothing on
Scotus. Was learned and quick-minded ; a successful lecturer both at St
Beimo’s and in public, and sought after as confessor. His knowledge of
Byzantine architecture led to a defence in the Tablet of Bentley’s designs
for Westminster Cathedral.
228 . 6. like the sweat ... or in the way etc. Added as a footnote in MS.
229 . I. Shapter, William, SJ (1847-1929), b. Exeter of non-Catholic
parents. Educated Westminster. Received into Catholic Church at Ex-
mouth, aged 18. This led to trouble at home; he left England and lived in
New Zealand and then India. In 1867 entered the Toulouse Province
SJ in India and spent noviceship at Negapatam. Was sent for his Philo-
sophy to St Mary’s Hall, Stonyhurst 1872. Did some of his Theology in
France but was ordained priest at St Benno’s 1878. Worked on missions at
Preston, St Helens, &c. Prefect of Philosophers at Stonyhurst 1885-gi.
1895-1905 worked in Irdia. Spent the last part of his life on English
Missions.
229 * 2. I underwent an operation .... This operation was for piles. Miss Grace
Hopkins wrote for the first edition: ‘I remember . . . that when I was
allowed to see Gerard, he said, jokingly, that as he lay awake the night
after the operation, he kept thinking of the lines —
“Puts the wretch that lies in pain
In remembrance of a shroud^' \
Mr Prance was the family doctor in Hampstead, Mr Gay the surgeon, who
also practised there. Hopkins mentions the operation to Bridges, 22 June
NOTES TO JOURNAL 43,
1879 {LL, i. 84) ; and it is apparently piles he refers to as ‘my old com-
plaint’.
229. 3. Campbell, Archibald (1850-1921), b. Ballachulish. Entered Society
of Jesus 1871. Ordained priest at St Beuno’s 1883. On the Mission at St
Joseph’s, Glasgow 1884, and Rector of it 1891. He was a Gaelic-speaking
and Gaelic-writing Highlander.
229.4. Br, Henry Marchant (1848-1937) entered the novitiate in 1869.
Ordained priest 1881. Science master. Mount St Mary’s 1884-90; then
taught at Stonyhurst and Wimbledon College. He spent the last 30 years
of his life at St Mary’s Hall and later at St Beuno’s virtually an invalid,
but preoccupied with preparing a book on the mechanical and scientific
problems which absorbed him. He wrote of Hopkins for the ist edn: ‘We
met in the Jesuit Noviceship at Manresa House, Roehampton. Some would
perhaps say that he appeared “effeminate” : he was certainly not that. He
had a certain natural grace of carriage that was pleasing and attractive
but he was quite unconscious of the fact and too manly to wish to be taken
notice of, and would have hated being noticed. He had a strong manly
will of his own. He was quite simple and did not show off his learning. He
was naturally somewhat eccentric in his views and ways: but these ways
were pleasing and many of them original. He spoke out pretty straight
what he thought; once he said to me “I admire you and I despise you”.
I quite understood why. It gave no offence. . . . He had a keen eye for
peculiarities in nature, and hunted for the right word to express them, and
invented one if he could not find one. He made for himself a peculiar sort of
handwriting, in later years he gave it up.’ (This possibly refers to the sys-
tem of abbreviations used in note-books C. I and II.) ‘He was not always
judicious in his sermons ; once he compared the Church to a milk cow and
the tits to the seven sacraments. But great genius must be excused eccen-
tricities.’
229. 5. Gladstone, John MacAdam (1846-84), 3rd son of Thomas Steuart
Gladstone, of Liverpool. Eton and Merton College. Matriculated 14 Oct.
1865. BA 1868; MA 1872. Died 19 Aug. 1884.
230. I. The Old Aiasters exhibition', ‘The Works of the Old Masters and of
Deceased British Artists’, a scries of loan exhibitions organized from 1870
by the RA in place of those previously managed by the British Institution.
The first one, containing 234 pictures from over 80 collections, received a
long and enthusiastic notice in the Art Journal (Feb. 1870).
230, 2. Fincham: a doctor to whom the Jesuits at Manresa went at this
period, with a consulting-room in Roehampton (information from the
Manresa House journals, kindly supplied by Fr D. A. Bischoff).
230. 3. triduum. Three days’ prayer and recollection in preparation for the
spiritual renewal of vows, which Jesuits make every six months between
their 1st and final vows.
230* 4. and chance left free . . . purpose. Added as a footnote in MS.
23a. 5. Clarke, Richard Frederick (1839-1900); educ. Merchant Taylors*;
424 NOTES TO JOURNAL
235. I. sketched ,,, one of them. See drawing, plate 31.
235. 2. water-ivybush seems to be a name invented by Hopkins, and has not
been traced elsewhere : no seaweed has leaves anything like an ivy. What
he saw was probably a branched seaweed of the order Floridae or *red
algae’ which, in spite of their name, are not all red in colour.
236. I. Ditton HalL During Bismarck’s ‘Kulturkampf’ the Jesuits were ex-
pelled from Germany ; Lady Stapleton made over for their use two country-
houses near Widnes, Ditton Hall being occupied by the Theologians and
Portico by the Tertians. For descriptions of these houses, and painful
accounts of residence in them, see Count Paul von Hoensbroech, Fourteen
Tears a Jesuit (Eng. transl. 191 1), ii. 216-22, 41 1-15. \
236. 2. Porter, Fr George, SJ, later Archbp of Bombay (d. 1889), ^be-
came Superior and Master of Novices at Manresa House, Roehampmn,
in Aug. 1873. He was thus Hopkins’s superior for the next period of\his
life when teaching Rhetoric at Roehampton. On 22 Sept. 1873 Fr Porter
wrote: ‘Manresa is very quiet, but my life is a most busy one. I am kept
occupied from morning till night. . . . You will find the scenery beautiful
(Richmond Park is spread out before us), the grounds charming, and our
chapel a perfect gem.* And on 25 Sept. : ‘My new office somewhat confuses
me. I have a community of more than 30 novices, 20 students, and some
ten veterans of one kind or another’ {The Letters of the Late Father George
Porter, S,J., Archbishop of Bombay . . ., 1891). A common saying of Fr
Porter’s was : ‘I consider the education of one novice a better work than
the education of sixty poor children: because the education of one novice
may prove the salvation of a thousand poor children.’
236. 3. jokes of various kinds on the 21st. The ‘Beadle’s Log’ of 1873 supplies a
further detail of considerable interest :
August 21. Thursday. As usual except that the Seminarians gave an
entertainment after supper .... It consisted of music, comic and half-
comic pieces etc. It was mainly got up by Mr. G. Hopkins, and was a
decided success.
An earlier entry in the same shows GMH once more apparently in the role
of humorist :
April I, Mr. G. Hopkins read a paper at Eng. Academy entitled
Thoughts on Mobs, Fr. Rector and Mr. Smith present.
236. 4. I received orders to go to Roehampton . . . and started next morning early.
On the abruptness of Jesuit orders cf. letter of Fj John Morris of 27 Sept.
1873 — i.e. a month later than these of Hopkins: ‘I have just received
marching orders to go to St. Beuno’s immediately as Professor.
Obedient Yamen
Answered “Amen”
And did
As he was bid.
So Southey says in the Rejected Addresses, and I will be like Yamen’ {Life and
Letters of Father John Morris, S,J,, pp. 176-7).
NOTES TO JOURNAL 425
236 . 5. meditation papers. The exact form and extent of these is not known.
There are extant two short sets of notes made in retreat, 1883 (Beaumont)
and 1888 (Tullabeg), published by Fr Devlin in Mote-Books, ii. 253 and
261. These are evidently some, if not all, of the papers referred to by RB
in a letter to Miss Kate Hopkins, 14 Oct. 1918, as ‘private papers which
ought never to have been sent. . . . One in particular which records his
meditations in retreat’, which RB was sending to the family; the originals
and RB’s letter are now among the Bodl. MSS. There was also formerly in
possession of the family an autograph Note-Book marked *Please do not
open this\ This was deliberately burnt by Miss Grace and Miss Kate
Hopkins (Gardner, ii. viii) ; it has been assumed by Dr Gardner, by the
editor, and by others to have been a spiritual diary; but this is only an
assumption: and parts of the Journal here printed are marked ‘Please not
to read’ (see appx IV, entry A I). The word ‘papers’ here seems to imply
separate sheets, not book. See Preface, p. xiv.
236 . 6 . mercy about Dolhen. From the remarkable letter to his mother of
9 Oct. 1877, on the death of his grandfather Smith, it seems probable that
Hopkins thought he had received from heaven some sign of Dolben’s
salvation; for he then wrote: ‘Do not make light of this, for it is perhaps
the seventh time that I think I have had some token from heaven in
connection with the death of people in whom I am interested’ {LL, iii. 148).
For Dolben’s state of mind at death, see p. 325.
237. I. Laval. There was a Jesuit house at Laval, Mayenne, till 1901.
Students from many countries did part of their course there.
237. 2. Kensington Museum. The entrance to the Museum in 1872 is shown
with lively figures in a water-colour by G. E. Emery, and interiors of
several galleries in drawings by John Watkins c. 1875 (reproductions in
The History of the Victoria and Albert Museum, Small Picture Book No. 31,
HMSO, 1952). (i) It is strange that GMH should have written of the 12
Luca Della Robbia terracotta roundels as a ‘twelvemonth service of plates
or platters’, for the 1873 Guide to the Museum says they were ‘supposed to
have been used for the interior decoration of the writing-cabinet of Cosmo
de’ Medici’: recent opinion suggests for the ceiling of a small barrel-
vaulted study of Piero de’ Medici in the Palazzo Medici in Florence, (ii)
The reproductions of pulpits are (a) that in Pisa Cathedral by Giovanni di
Niccolo Pisano {c. 1250-^oj/ 1320), and {b) that in Pisa Baptistry by his
father, Nicola Pisano, finished 1260. (iii) The bronze gilt doors are an
electro-copper reproduction of the Eastern, or Old Testament, Gate of the
Baptistry (not Cathedral) at Florence by Lorenzo Ghiberti (i 37 S-i 45 v'))»
specially made for the Museum from moulds obtained from the original in
1866. (iv) The cartoons are the seven famous Raphael cartoons for
tapestries, first shown on loan from the Royal Collection in 1865; fully
illustrated, with short historical and descriptive essay by John Pope-
Hennessy, in The Raphael Cartoons, v, and Large Picture Book No. 5,
HMSO, 1950. (v) The Transfiguration; a copy in black chalk by Casanova
of the famous Raphael altarpiece in the Vatican hung in 1873 among the
c?irtoons. (vi) The ‘standard portfolios’ were called ‘radiating pillar cases’
426 NOTES TO JOURNAL
when new in 1868. Indian architecture was shown in a collection of photo-
graphs made by James Fergusson (sec DNB; Guide, 1873, p. 21). The
Michelangelo reproductions may have been those of the Arundel Society,
for which there was a stall in the Museum, (vii) There were over 32 Mul-
ready oils in the Museum, of which 25 were in the Sheepshanks Collection,
including ‘Choosing the Wedding Gown’, ‘Open your Mouth and shut
your Eyes’, and ‘The Sonnet*. There were also several hundred Mulready
drawings and sketches {Catalogue of British Fine Art Collections, SKM, 1870),
(viii) The Watts pictures were not part of the permanent collection but on
loan. Mr R. W. Alston, of the Watts Gallery, Compton, Guildford, fs sure
that the picture of sisters is the double portrait of Ellen Terry (befcjrc her
marriage to Watts) and Kate Terry, now in the collection of the Hoh. Mrs
Hervey-Bathurst (Tate Gallery Watts Catalogue, Arts Council, 1954, under
item 37), and that the other was ‘Bulls and Peasants’, once in the possession
of Lord Abcrdarc — this he considers ‘not a typical Watts, being smooth in
texture and quality and highly coloured’. ^
237. 3. Musical instruments in the museum included the harpsichord which
had been Handel’s and three Italian spinets of mid- 1 6th century. Many of
the smaller instruments were on loan from Mr Carl Eugel, whose Musical
Instruments, South Kensington Museum Art Handbooks No. 5 (1875),
illustrated, was partly based on this collection and discussed many of the
points raised by Hopkins.
The words in the text ‘Yes, the viol . . . with frets’ arc added on left-hand
page in MS.
238* I* Fitis, Fran 9ois Joseph (1784-1871), author of Biographie universelle
des musiciens, was the beginner of informed French musical journalism, and
wrote manuals of composition. GMH probably refers to his Instruments de
musique.
239. I . a great gate. It is no longer possible to trace this grouping of trees; all
poplars in this area have gone; but by the sunk fence are still two cedars
‘set to one side by the wind’.
240. I. ^menstruum\ Exercise, consisting of an c.ssay read out and formal
disputation upon it, done by the abler scholastics. Originally held monthly,
but by Hopkins’s time probably three times a year, during Philosophy and
Theology, as now. There is no clue as to whether GMH took part in this
one himself.
240.2. MacCleod (properly MacLeod), John George (1826-1914), b.
London of Scottish family. Educ. King’s College, London. Exeter College
1844; BA 1847. Ordained as Anglican; curate at Stoke Newington. Re-
ceived into Roman Church 1854. A year at Collegio Pio, Rpme. Novice
SJ 1855. Priest 1861. Worked in Glasgow. Editor oi Letters and Notices 1894-
1907. It was he who brought together the two MS volumes of GMH’s
Journal for 19 July 1868 to 7 Feb. 1875, and printed extracts, with an
account of the MS, in Letters and Notices, xxviii. 392, Apr. 1906. See Preface,
p. XXV,
NOTES TO JOURNAL 427
240 . 3. Walker. For main note see p. 387. For origins of ‘The Harbour of
Refuge’, the background of which was based on Bray Almshouses, and a
reproduction of the oil version, see Marks, pp. 237 ff. It was bought by
Agnews and later presented to the National Gallery; now Tate No. 1391.
The water-colour version, about 3 feet long, painted the following year,
was owned by Mr Humphrey Roberts in 1896. GMH’s prices not verified.
Anne Thackeray’s The Village on the Cliff was illustrated by Walker, the
wood-engraving by Swain. Catherine Beamish {nee Butler) first appears
framed in a schoolroom doorway for chap, i in Cornhill^]vXy 1866 (xiv. i),
and in the illustration ‘Catherine and Beamish’ to chap, iii (Aug. 1866) the
likeness to the girl in the ‘Harbour of Refuge’ is very marked.
240 . 4. There was . . . Alma Tadema. Added as a footnote in MS.
240 . 5. PinwelL For main note see p. 383. His only picture, No. 179, in this
exhibition had no title in the Catalogue; but is referred to in Bryan’s
Dictionary of Painters and Engravers as ‘Princess and Ploughman’.
240 . 6 . Macbeth, Kohtrl Walker, RA (1848-1910; seeDjVB) began career
much under Frederick Walker’s influence (see p. 244). In second phase of
career chiefly known as an etcher of others’ pictures, including at least ten
of Walker’s. A print of his etching of ‘The Harbour of Refuge’, with two
others of his pictures, is in the Walker Gallery, Liverpool. In later life he
lived near Exmoor painting hunting subjects: ‘The Cast Shoe’ (1890) is
in the Tate (Ghantrey Bequest). His three pictures in this exhibition which
GMH saw were: 210 ‘Preparing a Feast’; 269 ‘The Apprentice’; 286 ‘A
Well’. GMH visited his studio in 1886 with his brother Arthur {LL, i. 134)
and saw a number of the etchings of Walker’s work.
240 . 7. Alma Tadema. For main note see p. 368. ‘The Flute Player’ was his
only picture in this exhibition, and its history has not been traced.
241 . I. Titchborne case. The trial of Arthur Orton (1834-98; see DjVB), son
of a Wapping butcher, for perjury in his action as Tichborne Claimant
(sec p. 414) began in Court of Queen’s Bench 23 Apr. 1873 before Lord
Chief Justice Cockburn, Mr Justice Mellor, and Mr Justice Lush. The
summing-up, which took 20 court days and ranged over the whole lives of
Tichborne and Orton, was said by Mr Sjt Ballantine {Experiences, 6th edn,
p. 393) to occupy ‘a very unnecessary amount of time’ because Cockburn
was ‘posing too much for effect*. It is not clear which day GMH attended.
Before and during the trial the case was used to inflame anti-Roman
prejudice, and the prosecution was even said to have been maliciously got
up by the Jesuits. Orton’s leading counsel, Dr E. V. H. Kcnealy (1819-80;
see DNB), a seceded Irish Catholic of acute and scurrilous mentality,
exploited this prejudice by outrageous insinuations during the trial, for
which he was later disbarred. By curious coincidence GMH’s letter to
Baillie of 4 Jan. 1872, suggesting that the Claimant was an impostor, also
described the Stonyhurst plays in which ‘women’s parts are not given and
Lady Macbeth becomes an Uncle Donald’. Dr Kenealy’s treatment of this
Stonyhurst custom in the trial led to the following comments by the Chief
Justice on 29 Jan. 1874: ‘Vice is the foul accusation which has been hurled
428 NOTES TO JOURNAL
against the authorities of Stonyhurst. I am no friend of the Jesuit Order.
I believe that their principles and their purposes are inconsistent with the
freedom, moral, intellectual, and religious, of the human mind. But to say
that this Order — which, whatever may be its merits or demerits, has done
so much for the furtherance of education, and for which literary men ought
to feel grateful to it — to say that this Order would use the opportunity of
demoralising the youth committed to its charge, and that it would do so
for the purpose of those abominations to which the learned counsel
referred, is in my mind one of the most hateful, most unfounded, most
abominable, and most fearful accusations that ever were brought before
against a body of men. Moreover there is not the slightest shadow of a
foundation for it. All that the learned counsel can point to is a foolish habit
they had of mutilating the plays which were acted in the College. They
omitted some scenes, and by some hocus-pocus converted the relations
between men and women into relations of a different kind. Because tperc
may have been left in some of these plays a passage which the Fathci^ in
their fastidiousness or sickly sentimentality thought a little too strong for
the ears of some delicate young lady, because something of that sort
dropped from the lips of the Rev. Father Fitz-Simon, the learned counsel
asks you to believe that these dramas were converted into something of a
totally different character and of a nature too terrible to contemplate. I
never heard of such an accusation before, and I trust to God I shall never
hear such another’ {The Tichborne Trial: The Summing-up by the Lord Chief
Justice of England, Ward, Lock, and Tyler, 1874, p. 16).
241 . 2. Bonomi, Joseph (1796-1878; see DNB), the second son of Joseph
Bonomi (1739-1808; see DNB) an Italian architect who came to England
at the invitation of the Adam brothers. The son, a sculptor and draughts-
man, was chiefly distinguished by his drawings of Egyptian hieroglyphics
and antiquities, which illustrated the works of the leading Egyptologists of
the time. In 1861 he became Curator of the House of Sir John Soane,
Lincoln’s Inn Fields, largely because of his earlier work on the Seti
Sarcophagus there ; there is an interesting portrait of him at the Museum.
‘The Camels’, Wimbledon Park, was the name of his home, at which he
died. The elder Bonomi had been the architect of the first Roman Catholic
Chapel in Spanish Place built 1793-6 (see note on Fr Goldie, p. 402).
241 . 3. the gems were bought by Soane about 1834 from the ist Duke of
Buckingham and Chandos; more gems have proved ‘to be post-antique
than either Soane or the Duke probably reahsed’ (Cornelius Vermeule,
Catalogue of the Classical Antiquities in Sir John Soane's Museum, Unpublished
Typescript, 1953). Hopkins seems to have confused, in notes or memory,
two separate gems, (i) is mounted on a gold ring, a cameo of German
agate with an oval ground, 24X 19 mm. This is a four-faced figure; a
young head in profile looks right; another head in profile and upside-down
(said by Prof. Vermeule to represent Jupiter Ammon) looks left; across the
top lies a bearded profile looking upwards; at the bottom a ram’s head
looks down, and the ram’s horn, in higher relief than the rest of the work,
forms the centrepiece (Vermeule, Catalogue, No. 820, p. 712). (2) is of
NOTES TO JOURNAL 4129
French breccia, mounted as a pendant in a most delicate gold filigree
setting, with an oval ground 26X 21 mm. In this, two young heads, both
the same way up in profile, look outwards, one right, one left; across the
top is an elderly bearded profile looking upwards; at the base of the necks
is a bearded Silenus looking down; a tiny fifth head, in the angle between
the Silenus’ beard and the right-hand neck, looks up north-eastwards. This
cameo has no ram’s horn (Vermeule, Catalogue, No. 821, p. 713). Prof.
Vermeule does not think any of the faces are female; he calls attention to
two similar gems in the British Museum Post-Classical Collection (BM
Catalogue, Nos 212, 214, pi. x), and ascribes the whole group to the
1 8th century.
241. 4. National Gallery, (i) No. 790 ‘The Entombment’; purchased 1868
from Robert Macpherson; unfinished. ‘Hammer-realism’ probably refers
to the angles of limbs, feet, &c., and the dead heaviness of flesh in the body
of Christ. ‘Imperfection and archaism’ may be a partial recognition that it
is a very early work {c. 1495), derived from a print by Mantegna. First
recognized as Michelangelo’s by Cornelius and Ovcrbeck (see p. 315),
Cornelius testifying to origin in a lawsuit in Rome about its purchase in
1846 by Macpherson. (ii) No. 809 ‘Virgin and Child with S John and
Angels’; purchased 1870; unfinished. The Virgin wears a heavy grey robe
billowing over her knees above a crimson dress. Drapery of angel on right
also beautiful. Very early, c. 1494. (iii) No. 902 ‘The Triumph of Scipio,
or the Reception of the Phrygian Mother of the Gods among the Divinities
of the Roman State; Andrea Mantegna (Padua, 1431-1506); purchased
1873; long narrow picture in monochrome, showing procession of 22
figures ; drapery most marked in two central figures and priest in mitre on
left. Was it a mere accident that The Portfolio, Jan. 1874, contained an
article on this picture by GMH’s old acquaintance F. W. Burton (see p.
316), with an etching of part of it by W. Wise? (iv) No. 274 ‘Virgin and
Child with St John Baptist and Magdalen; purchased 1855. The Virgin,
seated under scarlet canopy, with rose and ash-blue drapery; both saints
elaborately draped. Only two Mantegnas in Gallery at that date. All four
pictures reproduced in Italian Paintings in the National Gallery, 1936.
241. 5. Sham fight. 12,000 men of the Volunteer Rifle Corps held field
manoeuvres on Wimbledon Common on Easter Monday. There were about
100,000 spectators, who confused the last part of the battle. At the end
there was a march past.
242. I . Oedipus Coloneus. The reference is to 11 . 707-19, addressed to Poseidon
as Lord of the Sea and as creator and tamer of horses. The comparison
between the horse and the breaker is implied, not explicit, in Sophocles’
words.
242* 2. Kensington museum, (i) The plaster cast of the Louvre Melpomene was
broken up many years ago. (ii) The Japanese platter was probably work of
the Komai family from Kioto, very likely obtained from the Paris Exhibi-
tion of 1867; the particular piece is not remembered now in the Depart-
ment of Metalwork, (iii) The ivory relief was work of the kind called sunk
relief’; it seems that most, if not all, of the Japanese ivory in the museum
430 NOTES TO JOURNAL
at this date was on temporary loan {Guide, 1873, p. 21). (iv) Among the
accoutrements GMH saw was certainly the suit of armour specially
mounted as a gift to Queen Victoria from the Shogun, presented by her
to the museum 1865. Its hideous face has a long, drooping, three-pronged
beard and moustache. The masks, of highly tempered steel, were for actual
protection in battle. Swords and other weapons were in the same gift from
the Queen.
242. 3. I made the following notes . . . beautiful stone and name. This is on the
left-hand page of MS, but clearly belongs to this visit to the museum^
242. 4. Rebecca of a daughter. This was Beatrice Muriel, daughter of Arthur
Hopkins (see p. 303). As a young woman she spent some time witA her
uncle LGH in China, and married Mr H. Handley Derry, of the British
Consular Service in China, Sept. 1908. She died in 1948. Her son, iMr
Lionel Handley-Derry, is the present owner of the Family Papers, bo6ks,
and pictures to which constant reference is made. \
242. 5. Uncle James Birkett (1817-77), husband of Mrs Manley Hopkins’s
younger sister Matilda Smith (b. 1824). The Birketts had been neighbours
and friends of the Smiths in Trinity Square, Tower Hill, where Sophia and
Edward Birkett were special friends of the children (‘The Mirror*, Fam.
Papers) .
243. I. Patronage. The Feast of St Joseph, Patron of the Universal Church,
was formerly celebrated on the 3rd Sunday, now on the 3rd Wednesday,
after Easter. The ordinary St Joseph’s day is a separate feast on 19 Mar.
243. 2. Except that . . . rain. A note on left-hand page of MS.
243. 3. Combe Wood lay about 2 miles SW. of Roehampton, just off the
Kingston Road. Cf. Leigh Hunt, Examiner, 1819: ‘. . . that beautiful spot
near Wimbledon, called Combe Wood, which was so thickly set with
primroses, that it seemed as if they had been put whole into the ground for
a surprise. . . . Their beautiful pale yellow was interspersed with the blue-
bell and wild hyacinth’ (quoted by E. Blunden, Leigh Hunt's 'Examiner'
Examined, p. 97).
244* I . the Academy. The only one of GMH’s painter relations who exhibited
this year was his aunt Frances Hopkins (see p. 336), whose ‘Canadian
Voyageurs on Lake Superior starting at Sunrise’ was No. 100. The popular
subject-piece of the year was ‘Calling the Roll after an Engagement,
Crimea* (or ‘The Roll Call’) by Elizabeth Thompson (later Lady Butler),
which was ‘surrounded by a struggling multitude’ {A Victorian Diarist, ed.
E. C. F. Collier, p. 13) and had to have the coveted railing put round it.
Watts’s portrait of J. S. Mill was exhibited this year.
244* 2. Fr. Johnson, There were three Fathers Johnson at this time in the
Society. This is probably Fr Joseph Johnson Snr (1810-93); he had be-
come Socius to the Provincial in 1873, after many active years himself as
Provincial and as Rector of Stonyhurst. Fr William Johnson (1812-92) was
his brother. Fr Joseph Johnson Jnr (1826-91) was not a prominent Jesuit.
NOTES TO JOURNAL 43I
244 . 3. Carlsbad, Writing from the Hotel Rheinischer Hof, Carlsbad,
7 June 1874, Fr Porter said: ‘I get up at 5, say Mass at 6, begin the waters
a quarter before seven, take four tumblers (a quarter of an hour’s interval
after each), and after the last walk for an hour. At 9 I breakfast on a few
rusks and cafS-au-lait (a moderate portion); from 10 to i, I say Office,
write to friends, read a little; at i I go to dinner, see The Times, take an
easy stroll; towards 5 I go to my hotel, say more Office, read, etc., till 7,
when I sup; the supper consists of bread and wine’ (Letters of ,, , Fr,
Porter, p. 13).
244 . 4. Bampton, Joseph (1854-1933), b. at Exeter. Educ. Stonyhurst.
Entered novitiate 1871. He was a short time a priest under Vaughan at
Manchester; then at Farm Street, where as Rector he worked olF immense
debts. He was a popular and effective preacher. He later became Rector
of Beaumont.
244 . 5. Macbeth. For main note see p. 427. The title of this picture. No. 213
in the exhibition, should be ‘Phillis on the new-made hay’; original or
reproduction un traced.
244 . 6. Briton Rivihe (1840-1920; see DNB) came of a family of painters
and teachers of drawing, and an uncle was the well-known bookbinder.
Educ. Cheltenham, where his father was drawing-master. St Mary’s Hall,
Oxford 1863 ; BA 1866 ; no record of his meeting GMH. Early work notably
Pre-Raphaelite; later specialized in combining skilled animal painting with
ancient history. His ‘Daniel’ (RA 1872; Walker Gallery, Liverpool) is
familiar from frequent reproduction. Other pictures in Tate, Manchester
City Collection, Holloway College, &c. His ‘Apollo’ was accompanied in
the Catalogue by a translation of the Alcestis, 570-87; in same exhibition
was ‘Genius Loci’. In RA 1868 GMH would have seen ‘A Saint*. See
Muther, iii. 132-4; W. Mcynell, Some Modern Artists, pp. 141-7.
244 . 7. Calderon, Philip Hermogenes (1833-98; see DNB), b. Poitiers of
Spanish blood, which is clearly suggested in his portrait by G. F. Watts:
cf. ‘He reminds one eminently of some Spanish knight of old’ (Magazine of
Art, 1878, i. 202). Well-known pictures in Tate, Walker, Liverpool, &c.
In RA 1866 GMH would have seen ‘Her most high, noble, and puissant
grace’. Muther (iii. 158) wrote of ‘a good deal of effeminate classicism’ in
his work. ‘Queen of the Tournament’ is in Art Galleries, Peel Park,
Salford.
244 . 8. Millais (for main note see p, 386) : (i) ‘Scotch Firs’ formerly belonged
to Mr James Mason; (ii) ‘Winter Fuel’ is in Manchester City Gallery,
reproduced Handbook, ed. Phythian, 1910; (iii) ‘The North-West Passage’
is in the Tate; the legend in the Academy Catalogue read: ‘It might be
done, and England should do it.* Model for the sea-captain was Shelley’s
friend Trelawny, who was very indignant when the much-admired glass
of brandy-and-water was painted in after the sittings. For details and
reproduction see Life, ii. 48-52: etched by A. Mongin, 1881; (iv) the
Rothschild title should be ‘Walter, son of Nathaniel de Rothschild, Esq.,
M.P.*, now in the possession of Lord Rothschild; the subject is Lionel
432
NOTES TO JOURNAL
Walter, b. i868, who became 2nd Baron 1885. This was No. 95 in the
exhibition; No. 100 was ‘Canadian Voyageurs* by GMH’s aunt Frances
Hopkins (see p. 336) ; (v) ‘The Picture of Health’ was engraved in mezzo-
tint by Samuel Cousins and published by Agnews 1876 : formerly owned by
Mrs C. E. Lees ; (vi) ‘Daydream’ is merely recorded in Life^ with no details.
245 . I. Bidding . . . lips is a note on left-hand page of MS.
* 45 * 2. ^Joseph overseer of Pharaoh^ s granaries.'^ Wilfrid Meynell said of it: ‘A
very curious realistic picture, as unlike the conventional treatment of
Biblical subjects as it was probably like the real scene.’ j
245 . 3. ‘The Picture Gallery* and ‘The Vintage Festival* are both discuffied at
some length in G. A. Simeox’s article on Alma-Tadema (see p. 1368),
pp. 109-12. Of the former he says, ‘the modernism is very unobtrusive;
it is subdued by the quiet, matter-of-fact archaism of all the dctails’.\The
oil-painting of ‘The Vintage Festival’ had been shown in RA 1870: \now
in Birmingham City Gallery, reproduced in the Illustrated Catalogue, 1^23.
245 . 4. ‘Moorish Garden: a dream of Granada*, The garden background was
done from memory and sketches of an earlier visit to Spain. Sold in 1 930
for £199. loj. ‘Old Damascus: Jews* Quarter* was painted in London from
studies made in Damascus, autumn 1873; ‘Clytemnaestra watching the beacon-
fires* is in the Leighton House Collection: reproduced in Mrs Russell
Barrington’s Life of Frederic Leighton^ ii. 194. Full title is ‘Clytemnaestra
from the battlements of Argos watches for the Beacon Fires which arc to
announce the return of Agamemnon’ : an enormous muscular woman waits
in a pose of outrageous stiffness. See also pp. 361 and 387.
246 . I. arches within the, . . . Gap here in MS.
246 . 2. Brett (see p. 360) had two pictures in this exhibition. The
Saturday Review (13 June 1874, p. 748) said: ‘We incline to name as the
landscape of the year “Summer Noon in the Scilly Isles” (130), by Mr.
Brett. The foreground is strong in rock-drawing, the middle distance
radiant in the dancing ripple of a blue sea under sunlight, and the sky into
which the far-off distance retires is full of light and atmosphere. This scene
off the granite- bound coast of Cornwall might pass for an Isola Bella in the
blue Mediterranean. The artist seizes upon truth, and makes it beautiful;
he reconciles realism with idealism ; he is nearly as literal as when he painted
in his prae-Raffaellitc days the “Val d’ Aosta” ; but with more experience
he knows better how to bring his materials under art treatment.’ The Walker
Gallery, Liverpool, has another Scilly Isles picture of Brett’s. His other
work in RA 1874 was ‘Bude Sands at Sunset’,
247 . 1 . Raven (see p. 360) exhibited only the one picture this year.
247 . 2. Wyllie, William Lionel (1851-1931 ; sceDNB), educ. at Heatherlcy’s
and the RA Schools. Later well known for marine pictures, c.g. ‘The
Winding Medway’, ‘The Liner’s Escort’, and for his critical work on
Turner. See M. A. Wyllie, We Were One, a Biography of W, L, Wyllie, 1935*
His picture in this exhibition had no title in the Catalogue, but only the
quotation from Merchant of Venice, m. i. 4 about the Goodwins.
NOTES TO JOURNAL 433
247. 3- Tissot, James Jacques Joseph (1836-1902), b. Nantes. His early
work in Paris was on historical subjects under the influence of Leys (see
p. 315); in 1870 came to London and painted almost entirely modern-
costume pictures, in which Ruskin admired the ‘dexterity, brilliance and
conscientiousness’, but deprecated the vulgarity of subject. Muther said of
him that he did for English women what Alfred Stevens was doing for
French. See James Laver, Vulgar Society, the Romantic Career of James Tissof,
1936. After 1889 Tissot’s work was almost entirely religious, and included
a huge series of illustrations to the Bible. ‘The Ball on Shipboard’ is in the
Tate (Chantrey) and is available in colour-reproduction as a postcard.
Tissot’s only other picture in RA 1874 was ‘London Visitors’, not men-
tioned in James Laver’s Vulgar Society. See also p. 144.
247. 4. Jopling, Louise, b. Manchester 1843, daughter of T. S. Goode,
railway contractor. Educ. Paris under Charles Chaplin; m. (i) Frank
Romer, Civil Servant in the Admiralty, (2) Joseph Middleton Jopling,
Civil Servant, painter, regular exhibitor at RA, expert marksman who
once won Queen’s Prize at Wimbledon, d. 1889, (3) George W. Rowe,
lawyer. She was a regular exhibitor at RA, Grosvenor Gallery, Paris
Salon, &c. Published verse, tales, and Hints to Students and Amateurs. Ran
an Art School for Ladies. Just after her honeymoon with Jopling, she
wrote, ‘I started a big canvas, six feet by four, on which I painted “Five
o’clock Tea” — a bevy of Japanese maidens, seated on the floor, drinking
tea. In this picture I utilized the pretty dresses I had bought at the Japanese
warehouse when I was in Paris. ... I made my girl friends pose for me.’
Agnews bought it for £400. Also by her in RA 1874 ‘La Japonaise’, a
self-portrait in Japanese dress. She noticed specially in the exhibition the
Japanesey work of W. G. Wills competing with her own {Twenty Tears of
my Life, i 86 y-~i 8 Sy, 1925, p. 68;. Even more remarkable must have been
No. 1001, ‘A Japanese Cleopatra’ by A. Thompson. Her house and studio
in Beaufort Street, Chelsea, were taken over for a religious community
under Fr Kenelm Vaughan (see p. 375). For further details of her and
Jopling, see Life of Millais, i. 427-45, where is reproduced Millais’s portrait
of her, which is now in the Tate, presented by her son Lindsay Millais
Jopling. GMH does not seem to have realized how much the taste for
Japanese things derived from the 1867 Paris Exhibition, which he visited
without commenting on them (see p. 147 and n.; Muther, iii. 100-4).
247. 5. Richmond, [Sir] William Blake (1842-1921 : Son of George
Richmond, RA. Named after Blake. Influenced by Ruskin and the Pre-
Raphaelites. Studied in Rome 1865-9. Frequent RA exhibitor, mainly of
Greek mythological subjects and portraits (including Gladstone, Darwin,
and Browning). Founded Grosvenor Gallery 1877. Slade Professor at
Oxford 1879-83. Designer of mosaics for St Paul’s. RA 1895; KCB 1897.
His ‘Prometheus Bound’, an immense picture measuring 166J by 83 J
inches, is in the Birmingham Art Gallery (at present stacked) and is often
reproduced.
247, 6. Parker, John (1830 or 1839-1915), son of a grocer in Bull Street,
Birmingham. Exhibited water-colours at RA, OWS, &c., from 1867,
B 0p28 F f
434
NOTES TO JOURNAL
while living at various addresses in St John’s Wood. Taught for some years
in the School of Art at Madeira and on return to London became Master of
St Martin’s Art School. There is a self-portrait in the Birmingham City
Collection and examples of his work in Norwich Castle Gallery (9),
Walker Gallery, Liverpool (i), Melbourne (i). These two pictures of 1874
have not been traced. Information from Dr Mary Woodall, Birmingham
City Art Gallery.
247. 7. Maclaren, Walter, normally lived on Capri; work chiefly landscape;
most of the twelve pictures he exhibited in RA 1869-1904 are of scenes from
Capri. There are two drawings by him in the Birmingham City Galjery.
247. 8. Wortley, Arc hibald John Stuart (1849-1905), grandson of isi Lord
WharnclilTe, was a pupil of Millais. Founder and ist President of Society
of Portrait Painters 1889. Exhibited many portraits (including the Ivince
of Wales) and sporting pictures, chiefly at RA and Grosvenor Gallery.
Illustrated the Badminton Library Shooting^ a book on The Grouse, &c.^^
247. 9. Green, Charles (1840-98) was mainly an illustrator in black-and-
white and water-colour and did many illustrations to Dickens’s novels.
Forrest Reid {Illustrators of the Sixties, pp. 258-9) says that his earlier work
often suffered from unsuitable subjects, and sometimes from bad engraving
and reproduction. GMH w'ould certainly have known him from some work
in Once a Week, which is not very successful. His best work was in the
Graphic. He did three of the thirty- two illustrations for English Sacred Poetry
of the Olden Time.
247. 10. Bource, Henry (1826-99). Hopkins’s query after the name probably
shows his previous ignorance of it and doubt whether he had got it right.
Bource was b. Antwerp, and only exhibited about six pictures in England,
all between 1870 and 1877. The full title of this RA exhibit was ‘Ruined!
the day after the tempest’, and the Catalogue gave Bource’s address as
Antwerp and 396 Old Bond Street, There are examples of his work at The
Hague, Brussels, &c.
247. II, Moore, Henry (1831-95; see DjVB), brother of Albert Moore (sec
p. 388). At first a landscape-painter under Pre-Raphaelite influence.
Began sea-painting 1858, and by 1870 was doing little else. Called by
Muther (iii. 193-4) ‘the undisputed monarch of this province of art’. In
RA 1868 GMH would have seen ‘Ebb tide: squall coming on’. The full
title of this 1874 picture was ‘Rough weather in the open, Mediterranean’;
it is now in Blackburn Corporation Art Gallery. There was one other
Moore sea-piece in the exhibition. There are examples of his work in the
Tate (Chantrey); Walker Gallery, Liverpool; and the Manchester and
Birmingham City Collections. See P. G. Hamerton, ‘A Modern Marine
Painter’, Portfolio, 1890.
247. 12. Hughes, Arthur. For main note see p. 360. ‘The Convent Boat’
was just mentioned by the Saturday Review (16 May 1874) for its ‘sweet,
though rather sickly, sentiment’.
248. 1 . The Shadow of Death, also called The Shadow of the Cross, painted in
Jerusalem 1868-74. Bought by Agnews for and separately
NOTES TO JOURNAL 435
exhibited by them in Old Bond Street. Presented by Thomas and
William Agnew to Manchester City Gallery 1883. Reproduced in Man-
chester Handbook, ed. Pythian, 1910; Pre-Raphaelite Paintings, Manchester
City Art Galleries, 1952. See Holman Hunt, Pre-Raphaelitism and the Pre-
Raphaelite Brotherhood, vol. ii, chap. xi. The head of Christ was copied
separately by command of the Queen and hung in the Chapel Royal.
Another version, thought to be the original sketch and dated 1870, is in
Temple Newsam House, Leeds.
248 . 2. Dobson, either Joseph (d. 1932) or John (d. 1912); John went to
Manresa 1871, Joseph 1873, and both were in the house together at this
date. Both later worked in Malta and on English Missions.
248 . 3. House of Lords. The Debates were (i) Leases and Sales of Settled
Estates Bill, (2) Cruelty to Animals Law Amendment Bill. Lord Chelms-
ford spoke on the first, and the Lord Chancellor on both.
249 . I. Law, Thomas Graves (1836-1904; sec DNB), grandson of Lord
Ellenborougli, son of Hon. and Revd William Towry Law, Vicar of
Harborne. The father became a Roman Catholic 1851, and the son had to
leave Winchester, where he had been sent 1848. Then educated University
College, London 1852, and Stonyhurst 1853. Hesitated between Army and
priesthood. Under Faber’s influence joined London Oratory 1855. Priest
i860. Remained at Oratory till 1878, when he seceded from the Catholic
Church. Keeper of the Signet Library, Edinburgh 1879. Married 1880.
His later career thus had features in common with that of Addis, whom
GMH had come to see. Law was a founder of the Scottish History Society,
edited various 16th-century texts, published The Conflicts between Jesuits
and Seculars in the Reign of Queen Elizabeth (1889), the chapter on Mary
Stuart in the Cambridge Modern History (iii. viii), and many articles. See
Collected Essays and Reviews (1904) with photograph, bibliography, and
memoir by Peter Hume Brown.
249 . 2. David Lewis (1814 or 1815-95). Jesus, Oxford 1832. Sch. 1834.
Fellow 1839-46; Dean 1843; Vice-Principal 1845. Newman’s curate at
St Mary’s; followed him into Roman Church 1846 (Church, Oxford Move-
ment, p. 341). Student of Canon Law (M. Pattison, Memoirs, pp. 213-14).
Transl. N. Saunders, Rise and Growth of the Anglican Schism, 1877; Complete
Works of St John of the Cross, 1 864. Author of Life of St John of the Cross, 1 897 ;
Life of St Theresa of Jesus, 1870. After i860 lived at Arundel.
249 . 3. Brande Morris, John (1812-80), one of the major eccentrics of the
Oxford Movement and Catholic Revival. Balliol; 2nd Greats 1834. Fellow
of Exeter 1837. passed his whole day up the tower of Exeter College
reading the Fathers, and cutting jokes upon our stepmother, the Church of
England* (M. Pattison, Memoirs, pp. 184-5). Hence nicknamed Simeon
Stylites. He also had ‘a noisy and odious turning machine’ in the tower, and
was considered too farouche and unpresentable for Lockhart’s wine parties
just below. Learned patristic scholar and orientalist. Published The
Homilies of St John Chrysostom on the Epistle of St Paul to the Romans (Library of
the Fathers, 1841); Nature a Parable: a Poem (1842); won £200 prize
436 NOTES TO JOURNAL
offered by the Bp of Calcutta for An Essay towards the Conversion of
Learned and Philosophical Hindus (1843; ‘The work*, says Gillow, ‘had no
circulation in India.*) Became Roman Catholic 16 Jan. 1846; Priest 1848.
Chaplain to E. R. P. Bastard, Yealmpton, Devon 1853-5; Canon of
Plymouth 1853; Chaplain to his former pupil Sir John Acton, Aldenham
Hall 1855-60; at Shortwood, Somerset 1860-8. Chaplain to Coventry
Patmore, Heron’s Ghyll 1868-70. In 1870 he settled as Chaplain to the
Soeurs de la Misericorde de Seez, a nursing Order with only one house then
in England, founded in i860 at Hammersmith. Morris’s later works included
Taleetha Koomee; or, the Gospel Prophecy of our Ladfs Assumption, A Draina in
four acts (1858), in verse; Eternal Punishment (1874); Eucharist on Calvary:
An Essay .... The Introduction (1878) — this was intended to be a ‘history of
the Sacred Host with which our Blessed Lord communicated Himse^ at
His First Mass’, but Morris was dissuaded from continuing it (Gillow).
249 . 4. The House of Commons. Viscount Sandon was Vice-President! of
Council (on Education) in Disraeli’s Government which came in after
the General Election of Feb. 1874 (see p. 241). W. E. Forster had held the
same office under Gladstone. In this debate Sandon was proposing the
second reading of the Endowed Schools Act Amendment Bill, which aimed
to suspend the working of the Endowed Schools Commission set up by
Forster’s Act of 1869. Charles N. Newdegate was Conservative member for
N. Warwickshire. Robert Lowe, Liberal member for London University,
had been Home Secretary in Gladstone’s cabinet. Gladstone himself did
not actually speak until very late in the debate {Hansard, 3rd series, vol,
ccxx, col. 1625).
250 . I. Hayes, Stephen, SJ (1844-1922), entered novitiate 1863. Master
of Rhetoric at Beaumont. Ordained 1877. The greater part of his active
life was spent on English Missions.
250 . 2. Pretty farmyard at Gap here in MS.
250 , 3. Weeping Winifred: see p. 318 (n, 44. i).
25 Z. I. Roger Hopkins was a civil engineer of Plymouth. His original bridge
over the Teign (opened June 1827) consisted of 34 arches and was for a
long time the longest wooden bridge in England (1,671 feet). Changes
were made after damage in 1838 and 1893: it was entirely reconstructed
in 1931.
252 . I. Sky in the E. at sunset. Cf. pp. 210, 216, and letters to Nature (LL,
ii, appx ii).
253 - I. Exeter Cathedral was under restoration by Sir Gilbert Scott 1870-7.
A contemporary, but inadequate, account of the work then done will be
found in Exeter Cathedral and its Restoration, by Thomas B. Worth (Exeter,
1878) ; for exact detail on some of the work see The Building of the Cathedral
Church of St. Peter in Exeter, by Herbert E. Bishop and Edith K. Prideaux
(Exeter: Commin, 1922). For the corbels see Bosses and Corbels of Exeter
Cathedral Church, by E. K. Prideaux and G, R. Holt Shafto (Exeter:
Commin, 1909) : those in the choir were not recut at the restoration, but
accretions of colour-wash, &c., were cleaned off and the carving picked
437
NOTES TO JOURNAL
out. The stalls of the choir were newly made from Scott’s designs incor-
porating the 13th-century misericordes (see Devon and Cornwall Notes &
Queries, xi, ii, 1920). The Bishop’s Throne (c. 1317) was a magnificent
piece of carving with spire 60 feet high. It had suffered badly from John
Kendall {c, 1820), but Scott restored it to something like its original ap-
pearance. The date Hopkins gives was a conjecture not based on the
Fabric Rolls.
Bp Marshall’s (d. 1206) tomb was probably moved to its present site
in the 14th century. ‘The effigy of Purbeck marble is ... in full relief and
of a character consonant with the art of his time; but the slab is of coffin-lid
shape. The tomb-chest seems neither to fit the place which it occupies (the
carving of the west end being partly hidden), nor the slab above it. The
character of the carving also appears to belong to a period several decades
later’ (Bishop, op. cit., p. 123).
253 . 2. Hind and Panther, Dryden was very possibly at Ugbrooke in summer
or autumn 1686 and may have begun the poem there (G. E. Ward, Review
of English Studies, 1937, xiii. 300-1); but he often went to Rush ton Hall,
Northants., in late summer and may have also written parts of it there,
where an urn was later set up in ‘Dryden’s Walk’ inscribed : ‘In memory of
John Dryden who frequented these shades, and is here said to have com-
posed his poem of “The Hind and the Panther”.’ Also, parts were almost
certainly written in London (J. M. Osborn, John Dryden: some biographical
facts and problems, Columbia UP, 1940, pp. 203-4).
254 . I. Sircom, Sebastian (1844-1934), mathematician, botanist, ento-
mologist, and musician. Son of organist at St Mary Redcliffe, Bristol. The
family later moved to a house near Stonyhurst, where Sircom was teaching
at the College 1878-93 and again, after mission work, 1898-1902. For the
next 32 years he was at St Francis Xavier’s, Liverpool, College or Church.
254 . 2. embroidery. Cf. ‘Old Lady Clifford showed us a most wonderful
piece of embroidery meant for bed hangings, & worked by a Duchess of
Norfolk about 100 years ago. I did not know needlework could be carried
so far, it was really most beautiful & is said to have taken the Duchess 20
years with 20 handmaids’ (A Victorian Diarist, ed. E. C. F. Collier, p. 157;
date of entry 1 1 Nov. 1889).
254 . 3. Delany. Autobiography and Correspondence of Mary Granville, Mrs.
Delany, cd. Lady Llanover, 1861-2, 2nd series, i. 306-7. Letter of Mrs
Boscawen, 19 Oct. 1770, says nothing of interest.
354. 4. school. See p. 12, and n. in appx III.
254 . 5. Brownlow, William Robert (1830-1901), son of William Brownlow,
Rector of Wilmslow, Cheshire. Rugby and Trinity, Cambridge. BA 1852.
Ordained in Church of England 1853. Priest 1856. Curacies in Staffs, and
St Bartholomew’s, Moor Lane 1853—63. In 1863 received into the Roman
Catholic Church by Newman in circumstances very like those of Hopkins’s
reception. ‘I wrote’, he says, ‘on September 30th, to Dr Newman, of the
Oratory, and stated my wish to see and hear myself what Roman Catholics
really believed and practised. I had no previous acquaintance with him
438
NOTES TO JOURNAL
beyond public report that he did not attempt to urge people beyond their
convictions, and a letter I had seen of his to a friend, explaining a point of
Catholic teaching . . {How and Why I Became a Catholic . . by W. R.
Brownlow, MA, Torquay, 1864). Studied in Rome; ordained priest 1866,
and in charge of the church at St Mary’s Church, Devon 1867-88.
Attached to Plymouth Cathedral 1888-94. Clifton 1894-death. He
published a number of papers on Devon archaeology; translated Cur Deus
Homo and Vitis Mystica\ and wrote a series of successful pamphlets on
Sacerdotalism for the CTS.
254. 6. Maderna, Stephano (1576-1636), Milanese sculptor, chiefly kriown
for his statue of St Cecilia in the Church of St Cecilia in the Trastc^re,
Rome. The statue is illustrated in Michel, Histoire de VArt, vi. 1 23. Maderna
happened to go to the church just after the Saint’s tomb had been opmed
and her body found. The statue shows her lying on the right side with a^ms
stretched before her pointing to the feet: the head, after decapitation, jjut
back on the neck, its face turned to the ground. Hopkins must have seen a
reproduction of this statue.
254. 7. Lynch, ]oh.n (1848-1925), was one of the boys at the first opening of
Beaumont as a school, when the Novitiate moved to Roehampton in 1861.
He became a novice 10 years later. His chief work was done as a master at
Beaumont, and on the Bournemouth mission.
254. 8. Butterfield^ s Church. For GMH’s visit to All Saints’, Babbacombe in
1867, see p. 156,
256. I. Toz 6 r,}ohn Hellyer (1828-96), had become a Catholic in the early
50’s and was received at Stonyhurst. He was a solicitor at Teignmouth in
the firm founded by his grandfather, in which his son Mr E. J. F, Tozer,
as senior partner, gave the details for this note. The firm was responsible
for the legal work of the diocese of Plymouth. He was connected with the
Vaughans through his marriage to Mary Louisa Herbert of Llanarth
Court, Mon. William Vaughan frequently stayed with him and said Mass
in the house. His brother, William G. Tozer, was consecrated Anglican
Bp of Central Africa 1863.
256. 2. B/?. was William Vaughan (1814-1 902), uncle of Herbert,
the future Cardinal (see p. 419) and of Fr Bernard, SJ (see p. 422). Other
Vaughans Hopkins had met were Fr Kcnelm (see p. 375) and probably
Roger William Bede, OSB, Prior of Belmont (see p. 141). The sixth was
very likely Fr Richard, SJ, another uncle of the Cardinal.
256. 3. James (1845-1900), entered novitiate 1865, At this time a
master at Beaumont, where he showed great skill as an elocutionist and
producer of plays. A nervous man who imagined difficulties in getting on
with his Superiors. His career in the Society was much broken up.
256.4. Fr. Walter Clifford, SJ (1830-1902), youngest brother of Charles
Hugh, 8th Baron Clifford of Chudleigh (see p. 372). Educ. Stonyhurst.
Entered the novitiate in 1848. His chief work was at St Mary’s, Bristol,
where he was on the staff for 25 years.
NOTES TO JOURNAL ^39
256 . 5. St, Mary Redcliffe had been under restoration for the past 30 years.
The capstone of the new spire had been laid on 10 May 1872. The sculp-
tures on the N. porch had been recarved by Rice. The tomb Hopkins
mentions is at the E. end of the N. aisle of the chancel, the joint tomb of
Thomas and Philip Mede, merchants.
256 . 6. the Cathedral: Abbot Knowle had replaced the Norman choir early
in the 14th century; he planned a new nave to replace the Norman one
(finally removed in a ruinous state at the Reformation), but work only
reached the earlier stages. Street’s designs, commented on by GMH,
followed these foundations and the general scheme of the choir, but
added the two W. towers and N. porch and his own details. It seems
as though he somewhat modified his original Report of 1867, violently
attacked by E. W. Godwin, a Bristol architect and antiquary, in Build-
ing News, for suggesting an obviously 19th-century work instead of a copied
continuation of the old choir. But Francis Bond, Engluh Cathedrals (1909),
p. 9, blames the completed nave for being ‘copied closely from the old,
and so somewhat uninteresting’. It was finally opened in 1877, a
local Protestant outcry had had removed from the N. porch the figures
of the Virgin and Child and the four Latin Doctors (see A. E. Street,
Memoir of G. E. Street, R.A,, 1888, pp. 178-83).
257 . I. St Beuno^s. The Jesuit Theologians (Divines) had been moved from
Stonyhurst to St Beuno’s in 1849. (For St Beuno see LL, i. 40). For GMH’s
description of the house and garden to his father, written the day after his
arrival, see LL, iii. 124-5. The site was chosen by Fr Lythgoc, and the first
building designed by Hansom, the inventor of the cab. Map of St Asaph
district, p. 548.
257 . 2. Murphy, Thomas (1838-93), b. Old Ford. Novice SJ 1855. Taught
longer than usual at Stonyhurst and Chesterfield. Priest 1871. After
lertianship returned to St Beuno’s (1873) as Minister and Professor of the
Short Course. He was active in impro\nng the grounds there. Professed of
the four vows 2 Feb. 1874. He left in September to become Father Minister
of the College at Stonyhurst. From 1880 he worked in Liverpool.
257 . 3. Mrs, Thrale (1741-1821) had inherited Bachycraig, Flintshire, from
her father John Salusbury. In 1795 she left Streatham and went to live on
the Welsh estate with Piozzi, whom she had married in 1 784. It was he
who built Brynbella, and he died there in 1809. Mrs Piozzi gave the Welsh
property to John Piozzi, her adopted son.
257 , 4. Mrs, Hemans was a member of the Browne family, who had a house
at St Asaph called Bronwylfa. The tablet in the cathedral is inscribed:
‘This tablet is placed here, by her brothers, in memory of Felicia Hemans,
whose character is best pourtrayed in her writings. She died in Dublin,
16th May, 1835, aged 40.*
257# 5. the Cathedral, Cf. Samuel Johnson, A Journey into North Wales in the
Year 1774: ‘July 31. We went to Church at St. Asaph. The Cathedral,
though not large, has something of dignity and grandeur.* At the time of
Hopkins’s visit the church was in the hands of Sir Gilbert Scott : many of
440 NOTES TO JOURNAL
his ‘restorations’, especially in the choir, were conjectural and unsatis-
factory.
257. 6. The church at Trefnant was built from designs by Sir Gilbert Scott.
258. I . I began to learn Welsh. W. H. Gardner’s publication of Hopkins’s
Cywydd of 24 Apr. 1876 (Poems, p. 190) shows that GMH had made consider-
able progress in Welsh by then : more perhaps than his letter to Baillie of
6Jan. 1877 (LLjiii. 241) mightsuggest. Gardner also thinks Hopkins’s author-
ship of the Welsh version of 0 Deus, ego amo te (Poems, p. 189) sufficiently
probable to include it. For a full discussion of both, see Poems, pp. 266-70.
GMH refers to the Cywydd in a letter to his father of 7 Aug. 1876: ‘For the
Welsh they had to come to me, for, sad to say, no one else in the house
knows anything about it’ (LL, iii. 140). Of the effect of Welsh poetry on his
own he wrote to both Bridges (LL, i. 38) and Dixon (LI., ii. 15). Its influence
on his work is discussed by LI. Wyn Griffith in J\''ew Verse, Apr. 1 935, and by
Gweneth Lilly in Modem Language Review, July 1943, pp. 192-205. Fbur
letters to Hopkins from Dr (later Sir) John Rhys, ist Professor of Celtic
Studies at Oxford (LL, iii. 414-19: Hopkins’s side of the correspondence
has not survived) show GMH’s continued interest in Welsh philology and
Celtic studies. Sec also Gardner, ii. 143-57.
258. 2. St. Ignatius^ rules of election. For the rules governing the election of a
state of life, and commentary on them, see The Spiritual Exerciser of St.
Ignatius Loyola . . ., by Joseph Rickaby, SJ, 1915, pp. 1 13, 119-20, 156-60.
258. 3. the FoeL Cf. Deutschland, st. 4. 1 . 7 (Poems, pp. 56 and 222).
258. 4. Ffynnon~Fair is the usual form of the name, but m and / are fre-
quently interchangeable in Welsh. ‘Foel’ is also written ‘moel’. The sound
of/ is nearer
259. I. Brown, Thomas Joseph (1796-1880; sec DNB), b. Bath. Educ.
Acton Burnell, where he received Benedictine habit 19 Apr. 1813. Founda-
tion member of Downside community 1814; profes.sed there 28 Oct. 1814.
Priest 1823; Professor of Theology. Prior of Downside 1834-40. Conductor
of the ‘Downside Discussions’ 1834. First Bp of Newport and Menevia
29 Sept 1850 (see note on Belmont, p. 357). Diocese included six counties
of S. Wales, with Hereford and Monmouth. Published pamphlets of con-
troversy and sermons. Lived at Bullingham, Herefordshire (Birt, p. 173;
Downside Review, July 1880).
259. 2. Brown, James (1812-81) was a student at Old Oscott. Priest 18
Feb. 1837. Professor and Prefect of Studies at New Oscott. President of
Sedgely Park Academy 1844. On the creation of the hierarchy became first
Bp of Shrewsbury, the diocese including Shropshire, Cheshire, and the
six counties of N. Wales. He was responsible for an immense increase in
the parishes and schools of the diocese. It was for the silver jubilee of his
episcopate in 1 876 that Hopkins wrote The Silver Jubilee(sce p. 403, n. 1 9 1 .5) •
The Bp’s health broke down in 1879 and he retired to St Mary’s Grange,
near Shrewsbury.
NOTES TO JOURNAL 441
259 * 3* 5 nW/f, William (1824-80). Educ. Stonyhurst. Entered novitiate at
Trouchiennes 1842. Did his Philosophy at Namur, and Theology first at
Louvain and then at St Beuno’s. 1 858-66 at Chesterfield. 1868 one of the
earlier missioners at Holy Cross, St Helens. He went to St Beuno’s as
minister from Portico, and in 1877 had to retire for a year’s rest to Prescot.
He had ttvo brothers Thomas and Ralph, also priests SJ.
259 . 4. - or - : smooth or rough breathing in Greek,
260 . I. Ordination of priests. The English priests ordained at St Beuno’s on
20 Sept, were John Ryan, George Huggins, William Hayden, John New,
Roger Perrin.
260 . 2. Rickaby,iostph (1845-1932), the elder brother of John (see p. 402),
had been sent to Stonyhurst with his friend William Herries and joined the
novitiate on leaving school. He was early a brilliant mathematician and
philosopher, and in 1870, when still a scholastic, taught a mixed class of
‘philosophers’ and seminarians. He went to St Bcuno’s in 1874
ordained 23 Sept. 1877, together with Hopkins, Stephen Hayes, Sydney
Smith, the two Splaines, and others. 1879-96 he professed ethics at St
Mary’s Hall. In 1 896 he went to Oxford with the possibility of being elected
Catholic Chaplain; but he was not, and was moved to Farm Street. He
luckily went back to Oxford in 1899, and when Fr Richard Clarke (see
p. 421) died suddenly in the vacation, it was Rickaby who persuaded the
Vice-Chancellor to allow the Jesuit hall to continue; and he remained
there for the greater part of his life. His three great masters in teaching and
preaching were Aristotle, St Paul, and St John Chrysostom. His chief
published works are Of God and His Creatures (Notes and transl. of Aquinas
Contra Gentiles, 1905); Free Will and Four English Philosophers, 1906; Moral
Philosophy (Stonyhurst Series 1888). He edited Aquinas Ethicus and The
Spiritual Exercises of St. Ignatius Loyola, and published notes of his retreats in
Waters that go Softly, but in the published form they have lost a great deal
of their vigour, and lost too the pictorial images which Rickaby’s mind
held by and delighted in.
260 . 3. agapanthus. A big tufted plant with strap-shaped leaves, having a
spherical head of flowers, normally blue, the cluster being about 8 inches
across with 1 00 flowers,
261 . I. Barraud, Clement William (1843-1926), son of the painter, Henry
Barraud, came of the family of French Huguenot descent prosperous in
England in business (e.g. the clockmakers in Cornhill) and Civil Service.
Educ. Lancing 1854—7. Became a Catholic after adoption by his uncle;
went to Stonyhurst 1857. Joined firm of Barraud & Lavers, stained-glass
artists. Entered novitiate 1862 and went to St Beuno’s 1874. Priest 1876.
From 1880 to 1900 stationed at Georgetown, BG, and later at Barbados.
In 1908 returned to England and became Spiritual Father at St Beuno s.
Published Meditations, 2 vols, Cantica Sion, and two plays: St. Thomas of
Canterbury and St. Elizabeth of Hungary (1892). His uncle Edward Barraud
(1817-1901) joined the Society in 1866 as a lay brother and was for 33
years accountant at Stonyhurst.
442 NOTES TO JOURNAL
261. 2. di Pietro, J. B., was the priest-in-charge of the church at Holywell.
261. 3. St. Winifred. For her story, seeLL, i. 40. Hopkins’s short poem On
St. Winifred (Poems, p. 159) is undated. RB’s note says GMH began his
tragedy on St Winifred (fragments m Poems, 96 and 159) Oct. 1879; there
are further drafts in the ‘Dublin Note-Book’ of 1884-5 (see appx IV,
entry G. I.fl) . It is clear that he had a very special devotion to the Saint and
her well.
261. 4. Wm. Splaine (1846-1913), educ. Stonyhurst. After ordination spent
20 years on the St Walburge’s Mission, Preston, and later work^ at
Chesterfield, Earl Shilton, and St Helens. He was doing mission woijk all
his active life. 1
261. 5. starlings. Cf. Coleridge: ‘Soon after this I saw Starlings in Vast
Flights, borne along like smoke, mist — like a body unindued with voluniary
Power/ — now it shaped itself into a circular area, inclined — now tl[iey
formed a Square— now a Globe — now from complete Orb into an Ellipse-
then oblongated into a Balloon with the Gar suspended, now a concave
Semicircle; still expanding, or contracting, thinning or condensing, now
glimmering and shivering, now thickening, deepening, blackening!’
(Transcription in 1803 of note-book entry for 27 Nov. 1799: The Notebooks
of Samuel Taylor Coleridge, ed. Kathleen Coburn, 1957, i, 1589).
262. I. Gladstone in November published his pamphlet The Vatican Decrees
in their Bearings on Civil Allegiance: a Political Expostulation; it was a violent
attack on Ultramontanism as being fatal to vigorous life in both church
and state. In the course of it the Jesuits were called ‘the deadliest foes that
mental and moral liberty have ever known’. By the end of the year 145,000
copies had been printed. At the beginning of February he said ; T have now
finished reading the 20th reply to my pamphlet. They cover 1000 pages
Manning, I think has been as civil as he could ... in his 200 pages has not,
I venture to say, made a single point against me’ (Morlcy, Life of Gladstone,
bk. vii, chap. ii). The answers GMH mentions were: (i) Expostulation in
Extremis by the Right Hon. Lord Robert Montagu, having on its title-
page: ‘ “Although I hit you first, yet it is no matter; I will have an action
of battery against you if there is any law in Illyria”.— Mr. Gladstone in the
part of Sir Andrew Aguechcek.’ (ii) Pope Hennessy’s answer still untraced,
(iii) The Dbllingerites, Mr. Gladstone and Apostates from the Faith, 1874, or else
Mr. Gladstone's Expostulation Unravelled by Bishop Ullathorne, 1875. Ulla-
thorne was the senior English Bp at the Vatican Council, (iv) A Reply
to the Right Hon. W. E. Gladstone's ^Political Expostulation' by the Right Revd
Monsignor Capel, 1874. Capel was a fashionable priest whose reception of
the 3rd Marquis of Bute into the Roman Church in 1868 was made the
basis of Lothair. Capel became Mgr Catesby; but in the 1870 edn, iii. 254,
the real name ‘Capel’ was actually printed by mistake, (v) The Vatican
Decrees in their Bearing on Civil Allegiance by Henry Edward, Archbishop of
Westminster, 1875, (vi) A Letter addressed to his Grace the Duke of Norfolk on
the Occasion of Mr. Gladstone's recent Expostulation, by John Henry Newman,
1875. The Academy review of this was by G. A. Simcox (see p. 405) in
vol. vii (1875), PP- 79~®o. Gladstone’s second pamphlet, Vaticanism,
NOTES TO JOURNAL 443
answering these answers, was submitted in proof to Lord Acton and
Dollinger, and itself was replied to by Newman in a new postscript of
24 pages. In 1875 Gladstone brought out both pamphlets, with his
Quarterly review of Speeches of Pope Pius IX, as Rome and the Newest Fashions
in Religion: Three Tracts.
262. 2. Wagner, Fr Albert, SJ, joined the New Orleans Mission 1880, when
it belonged to the Lyons Province, and died there 1924.
262. 3. Denbigh is a taking , . . changing. Inserted here from left-hand page of
MS, where it is written as an isolated paragraph.
jSfOTES TO ^RHYTHM AND THE OTHER STRUCTURAL
PARTS OF RHETORIC-VERSE'
267 . I. The title originally read ‘Rhythm and the other structural parts of
oratory and poetry — verse — *. The correction seems to have been made
immediately: the writing is thick and blackish; what follows thin and
brown.
i
267 . 2. Mention of rhythm . . . This beginning seems to imply some prtjvious
lectures, possibly on prose: but there are no extant notes of these. \
I I 1
269 . I. lepiosy, element. Cf. Journal, p. 187. '
272 . I. apcrtg and Siaig. Cf. W. R. Hardie, Res Metrica (1920), p. 262 : ‘The
Greeks meant by arsis the lifting of the foot in the march or dance, and by
thesis the downward movement. In an anapaest the two short syllables
accompany the former movement, the long syllable the latter :
thesis
Hence for the Greeks the long syllable in a dactyl, anapaest, iambus, &c.,
is the thesis, the rest of the foot the arsis.
‘A different use of the terms grew up in Roman imperial times, and after
that yet another usage, which has been the prevalent one with modern
metricians — the voice and not the foot came to be thought of, and hence
arsis and thesis exchanged meanings. The long syllable in the anapaest came
to be called the arsis. “Rise” and “fall” in English, and “Hebung” and
“Senking” in German, have been adopted as terms answering to this use of
arsis and thesis. In view of these equivalents it would be a mistake to
revive the Greek use of the words.’
273 . I. St. Austin. De Musical bk ii, chap, xiii, § 25; Migne, Patrologia Latina,
vol. xxxii, cols 1 1 13-14.
*Magister: Sed cur non etiam ille amphibrachus, quern ab ista numero-
sitate penitus ejiciebamus, hac condicione misceatur spondeo, dactylo, et
anapaesto, vel per sc ipse numerosum aliquid in musica continuatus effi-
ciat? Potest enim simili ratione media quoque pedis ejus syllaba, quae
longa est, plausu dividi; ut cum singula tempera singulis lateribus dederit,
non jam unum ct tria, sed bina tempora levatio positioque sibi vindi-
cent: nisi habes aliquid quod resistat.
^Discipulus: Nihil sane habeo quod dicam, nisi hunc etiam esse ad-
mittendum.
*Magister: Aliquid ergo plaudamus quaternorum temporum pedibus
ordinatum atque contextum, quibus istc commixtus sit, ct eodem modo
sensu exploremus utrum nihil imparile offendat. Et ideo attende in hunc
numerum propter judicandi facilitatem cum plausu tertio repetitum.
Sumas optima, facias honesta. Sumas optima, facias honesta. Sumas optima,
facias honesta.
445
‘structural parts of rhetoric — verse’
*Discipulus: Jamjam, obsecro, parce auribus meis: nam etiam plausu
non admolo, ipse per se horum pedum cursus in illo amphibracho
vehementissime claudicat.’
273- 2. Rests in Shakespeare: e.g.:
Of goodly thousands. But, for all this {Macb. iv. iii. 44).
A third thinks, without expense at all (/ Hen. VI. i. i. 76).
Pull off my boots; harder, harder, so (Lear, iv. vi. 178).
That she did give me, whose posy was (M. of V. v. i. 148).
Would then be nothing: truths would be tales (A. and C. 11. ii. 137).
273. 3. St. Austin. De Musica, bk iii, chap, viii, §17; Migne, loc. cit., col. 1125.
‘Af. Recte censes. Sed die mihi etiam quantum spatium putas esse?
D. Metiri hoc omnino difficile est. A/. Verum dicis: sed nonne tibi videtur
brevis ilia syllaba id metiri, quam cum addidimus, neque longae ultimae
ultra solitam productionem, neque ullum silentium in ejus metri repeti-
tione sensus desideravit? D, Omnino assentior: nam et te illud superius
pronuntiante atque repetente, hoc posterius ego apud me ipse repetebam
pariter tecum: ita sensi idem spatium temporis ambobus occurrere, cum
silentio tuo brevis mea ultima conveniret. Af. Teneas igitur oportet haec
silentiorum spatia certa in melris esse. Quare cum in veneris aliquid
decsse pedi legitimo, considerare te oportebit, utrum dimenso atque
annumerato silentio compensetur. D, Teneo jam istud, persequere
caetera.’
273. 4. Aristotle says . . .; Poetics 1447^
274. I. ^Now the hungry lion roars'. A Midsummer-Night' s Dream, v, i. 378.
274# 2. *'Twas when the seas were roaring'. John Cay: ballad from The What
d'ye call ii, 1. i. Known in the Hopkins family from George Bickham,Jnr:
The Musical Entertainer. Cf. LL, i. 120.
274. 3. the iambic is near the language of common talk. Arist. Poetics, 1449^^4*
/LtoAiora yap XeKTiKov twv pLerpwv to ta/xjSetov earev arif-Leiov Se tovtov,
TrAefara yap laji^^la XiyopL€V iv Tjj SiaXeKTw Tjj irpos aXXrjXovs. Cf.
Rhetoric, 1408^33. The iambic is also called irpaKTiKov 1460“! ; cf. Horace,
A.P. 82. See also p. 275 and n. 3.
274, 4. The trochaic is described by Aristotle as rpox^pos (Rhet. I409*‘)>
opXricTTLKOv (Poet. 1460®!), KopSaKt/ceurepo? (Rhet. 1408^36). ‘An English
reader would be surprised,^ says Twining, ‘on opening a didactic and
philosophical Poem, to find it written in the measure of folly mortals, fi
your glasses", &c.’
274. 5. these lines through the Iliad. ‘Sing, goddess, the ruinous wrath of
Achilles Pcleus’ son (i. i) . . . from the day when first Atreides king of men
and godlike Achilles were parted in strife. Who then of the gods so set them
at strife that they quarrelled? The son of Leto and Zeus (i. 6-9) . . . ecause
Atreides had dishonoured Chiy^ses the priest (i. 1 1)-*
275. I. antispasts (iamb + trochee) can be said to occur in Shakespeare’s
blank verse, when a foot other than the first is inverted , the 00 e ore
446
NOTES TO ‘rhythm AND THE OTHER
it being regular. This is commonest in the third place, but occasionally
for special effect occurs in others; e.g. in the second in Macbeth^ i. vii. 6i :
/ /
‘And we’ll not fail. | When Duncan is asleep . . .*
— though it is possible to take this line as if the stress fell on fail.
275. 2. Aristotle, Rhet. i4o8*’2i-32. To Se rijs Aefew? Set jLtrjre
€/x/ACT/)ov €LvaL fxrjTe dppvd^iov’ to /xev yap dmdavov [TrcnXdaSaL yap
Bokcl) Kal dfia kol i^Larr^aiv' Trpooe^^eu' yap Troiel to ) opLolco, ttotc
ttoAu/ "ijfei. warrep ovv tcjv KTjpvKcov TTpoXapL^dvovai rd Traihia to ‘ViVa
alp€LTaL iTTirpoTTOv 6 dTr€X€vd€povp,€VOs ; KXi(i)va^\ to Se dpMiiov
aTTCpavTOV, Set Se TrenepdvSat. fiev, piTj fi€Tp(v Se. oT^Se? yap Kal dyicoarov
TO diTCLpov. TrepatVeTat Se dpidfiw ndvra' 6 Se tou o-x7//xaTO? tt ]? Aefeo>?
dpidpos pvdpLos iaTLV, ov Kal to, /leVpa TjUT^TCt. Std pvdpLov Bel tov
Xoyov, pL€Tpov Sc pL'q. TroiTjpLa yap eWai. pv8p,6v Se pi) aKpi^ws' tovto Se
eerrat, idv fte'^pt tov \
275. 3. The iamb ... is actually what people talk in .. . Rhet. 1408^^33:
d Se LapLpos avrq €(Ttlv 'q Xi^ig rj tcov noXXoiv' Std /xdAtoTa ndi'TOJU tlov
pL€Tp(Dv ta/tjScta (f>d€yyovTaL Xdyovres. Cf. p. 274 and n. 3, giving Poet.
I 449 *> 24 .
276. I. Cicero . . . Orator, 64: ‘Quare etiam pacana qui dixit aptiorem, in
quo esset longa postrema, vidit parum: quoniam nihil ad rem est poslrema
quam longa sit. lam paean, quod plures habeat syllabas quam tres,
numerus a quibusdam, non pcs habetur. Est quidem, ut inter omnes
constat antiques, Aristotclem, Theophrastum, Thcodectem, Ephorum,
unus aptissimus orationi vcl orienti, vel mediae : putant illi etiam cadenti :
quo loco miiii videtur aptior creticus.’
276. 2. The Asiatic school. Cf. Cicero, Orator, 63 : ‘Insistit autem ambitus
modis pluribus, e quibus unum est secuta Asia maxime, qui dichoreus
vocatur, quum duo extremi chorei sunt, id est c singulis longis et brevibus,’
276. 3, Saturnian verse. Cf. W. M. Lindsay, Early Latin Verse (1922), p. 8:
‘The Saturnian metre has evoked almost as many monographs and
magazine-articles as there are extant lines, but even yet no agreement has
been reached on the most elementary point of all. Was it Accentual (like
most old European metres)? Or was it Quantitative? That some regard
for quantity may be shown in Saturnian lines of Livius and Naevius
proves nothing. In our own country, after the French type of verse had
been introduced, the old native type assimilated itself more or less to the
new pattern. Alliterative verse lasted for some time after the importation of
rhyming verse. The “Canterbury Tales” arc in the new metre, the “Vision
of Piers Plowman” in the old. Some poets wrote a mixture of the two,
cither adding an alliterative element to the new or a rhyming element to
the old.’
For the scansion of his first two examples Hopkins has accepted (except
in one instance) the accentual markings given by F. Ritschl in Priscae
Latinitatis Monumenta Epigraphica (Berlin, 1862), and he seems to have
accepted it without question, and what it implied— i.e. the rejection of the
STRUCTURAL PARTS OF RHETORIC — VERSE' 447
quantitative theory altogether. This leads to difficulties as great as the
acceptance of it. That Hopkins felt uneasy in accepting Ritschl’s scansion
is shown in his final sentence on the metre: Tt must have been chanted, as
the beats as often as not disagree with the word-accents.’
It is important to notice that he was aware enough to supply any hypo-
thesis at all to explain what was the generally accepted view of scholars at
the time.
The first quotation is a votive inscription called the Titulus Soranus,
edited and illustrated by Ritschl (P.L.M.E. liifl). It is No. 1175 in the
Corpus Inscriptionum Latinarum (vol. i, 1863) : the text reads as follows:
M • P • VERTVLEIEIS • G • F •
OyOD • RE • SVA • DiFEIDENS • ASPER^
AFLEIGTA • PARENS • ITMENS
HEIG • VOVIT • VOTO • HOG
SOLVTO • ^^GVMA • FAGTA
POLOVCTA LEIBEREIS • LVBE«
TES DONV • DANVNT •
HERGOLEI • MAXSUME •
MERETO SEMOL • TE
GRANT • SE • vOTl • GREBRO
GONDEMNES
‘Marcus and Publius Vertuleius, sons of Gaius — in that their father,
fearful and in despair at the grievous ruin of his fortunes, here made a
solemn vow — his children, in performance of this vow, willingly offer to
Hercules, who is most worthy, a tithe in sacrifice; and therewith beg that
thou wilt often grant their prayers.’
The second inscription is from the Sarcophagus of the Scipios moved
from outside the Porta Gapena to the Vatican Museum (C./.L. 30).
Edited by Ritschl with facsimile P.L.M.E, col. 32 and tab. xxxvii.
CORNELIUS • LVGIVS • SCIPIO • BARBATUS •
GNAIVOD • PATRE 1 PROGNATVS • FORTIS • VIR • SAPIENS-
QVE—QyOIVS • FORMA • VIRTVTEI • PARISVMA j FVIT—
CONSOL • CENSOR • AIDILIS • QVEI • FVIT • APVD • VOS—
TAVRASIA • GISAVNA | SAMNIO • GEPIT— SVBIGIT • OMNE •
LOVGANAM • OPSIDESQVE • ABDOVGIT
‘Cornelius Lucius Scipio Barbatus, sprung from his father Gnaeus, a
gallant man and a wise one, whose beauty was equal to his courage, and
who was consul, censor, aedile among you, captured Taurasia and
Cisauna in Samnium ; subdued all Lucania and took away hostages.’
In line 3 Ritschl scans ‘GonsoP where Hopkins has ‘Consol*. Hopkins’s
footnotes call attention to the old forms of accusative. A photograph of this
famous tomb is frontispiece to J. E. Sandys, Latin Epigraphy. Marble
miniatures of it were in the last century often bought as souvenirs of Rome.
277. I . Fato Metelli fiunt Romae consules. ‘It is by fate that the Metelli become
consuls of Rome.’ This line is attributed by pseudo- Asconius (on Cicero: in
448
NOTES TO ‘rhythm AND THE OTHER
C. F<prr^m, Actio Prima, lo) toNaevius; and he adds that Q.Metellus, consul
206 B.c.j replied ‘Dabunl malum Metelli Naevio poetae*. But the attribu-
tion is very uncertain, and the verses are probably a product of the tradi-
tion about the quarrel between Naevius and the Metelli.
277. 2. Piers the Plowman:
‘What this mountain bemeneth and this derke dale.’ The opening lines of
Primus passus de visione (A) or Pt II. The Vision of Holy Church (ed. Skeat,
EETS, 1867). V or Piers Plowman compare Z.L, i. 107-8, 5 Sept. 1880: T have
not studied Piers Ploughman and so cannot pronounce how far triple time is
boldly employed in it. . . . The notion of pause or caesura had Come to
English versification from two quarters — from Piers Ploughman and the
older native poetry on the one hand, where it is marked by a sort of Greek
colon or by a stroke, and from France on the other . . and i. 156, l 8 Oct.
1882: ‘So far as I know — 1 am enquiring and presently I shall be ^ble to
speak more decidedly — it [sprung rhythm] existed in full force in Anglo
saxon verse and in great beauty; in a degraded and doggrel shape in Piers
Ploughman (I am reading that famous poem and am coming to the conclu-
sion that it is not worth reading) . . . .’
278. I. Shakespeare:
(i) Macbeth, iv. i. 6. cold Ff.; the cold Rowe (ed. 2); coldest Steevens
(1793) ; a cold Staunton.
(ii) Ibid. IV. i. 9. Ff. read ^Boil thou first . . .’.
(iii) As Tou Like It, iii. ii. 133. The common emendation is ‘Why
should this a desert be?*
(iv) Lovers Labour^ s Lost, iv. iii. 117. ‘. . . Jove . . .’ (Rowe). The
editors of the New Cambridge Shakespeare accept this emendation and
add ‘The line clearly lacks a syllable’.
278. 2. Campbell: Ye Mariners, ii. 7. Cf. LL, ii. 23.
278. 3. Hamilton, William, of Bangour (1704-54). The Braes of Yarrow, i.
1-2 and X. 1-2.
279. I. arrowy her, Richard Garnett, The Nix, i. 2. Cf. Campbell, Hohen-
linden, i. 4, &c., ‘Of Iser, rolling rapidly’.
279. 2. silvery ciphers. The Nix, ii. i.
* 79 * 3 * ^ salle." La Fontaine, Fables, i. ix: ‘Le Rat de ville et
le Rat des champs.’ The verse is the seven-syllable trochaic which La
Fontaine frequently used. The strict rule of this verse is that the strong
place must be filled with a heavy syllable and the weak places by a heavy
or light, just as in the Alexandrine, but a heavy syllable in the weak place
must not be stronger than the strong syllable preceding of the same foot.
La Fontaine, however, took great liberties in his verse. Hopkins has
deliberately chosen an extreme example in which the rhetorical verse
stress frequently falls on syllables of which the speech stress is light. In the
first stanza of the fable, for instance, the two types of stress more generally
coincide. The strict rule depends on the formal assumption of the possi-
bility of a calculus in the strength of syllables. Hopkins’s statement that the
STRUCTURAL PARTS OF RHETORIC — VERSE* 449
rhythm of French verse ‘is iambic in lines of even syllables, trochaic of odd*
is misleading; for lines of even syllables are necessarily iambic, as the last
syllable (abating feminine rhymes) is always accented in French verse, but
on the other hand trochaic decasyllabic verse is frequently found in
French, especially in the 19th century. Its scheme is / ^ / ^ / 1| / ^ / /.
279. 4. ‘/w the deep bosom . . Shakespeare, Richard III. 1. i. 4.
279. 5. ^Canto Varme pietose . . Tasso, Gerusalemme Liberata, i. i. i,
279. 6. ^Questa selva selvaggia . . .*. Dante, Inferno^ i. 5.
279. 7. the so-called political verse. ttoXltlkos, meaning ‘fitted to common life’
or ‘popular’, is contrasted with ttoltjtlkos by Phrynichus the Grammarian
(chap. 53). In Byzantine and modern Greek ‘political’ verse is scanned by
accent and not quantity, a strong stress falling on the penultimate syllable.
280. I. *0/ that forbidden . . Milton, P.L. i. 2.
280. 2. ^Without unspotted . . Dryden, The Hind and the Panther, 1. 3.
280. 3. ^Nonne vides . . Virgil, Georg, hi. 103. The line should read ‘Nonne
vides, cum praecipiti certamine campum’.
281. I. ^Jam satis terris nivis . . .*. Horace, Odes, i. 2. i.
281. 2. ^Mercurr facunde nepos . . .*. Horace, Odes, i. 10. i.
281. 3. ^ Wrapt in eternal silence . . Spenser, i. 41. 9.
281. 4. ^Propertius . . . enclitic gue etc\ Cf. LL, ii. 25.
281. 5. Ttaliam fato . . .’. Virgil, Aeneid, i. 2.
281. 6. 'Lapsaque sub terras . . .’. Ovid, Fasti, i. 2,
282. I. ‘Ct/m mala per longas . . Ovid, Remedia Amoris, 92.
282. 2. ^Cujus non animo , . Ovid, Fasti, i. 194.
282. 3. * Dives et lasciva . . .’. Horace, Odes, iv. ii. 23.
282. 4. 'Nuntium curvaeque . . Horace, Odes, i. 10. 6.
282. 5. Kehama. The Curse of Kehama, x, ‘Mount Meru’:
Swift through the sky the vessel of the Suras
Sails up the fields of ether like an Angel.
Rich is the freight, O Vessel, that thou bcarest!
Beauty and Virtue, &c.
282. 6. ^Home to His mother's house . . .*. Milton, P.R. iv. 639.
At this point in the MS a new section was begun on a fresh page, but
abandoned,
284. I . Marsh, George Perkins. See note on p. 450.
284. 2 . MacCarthy, Denis Florence ( 1 8 1 7-82) , translated many of Calderon’s
plays from the Spanish. In the second volume of these translations (1861),
containing Love the Greatest Enchantment, The Sorceries of Sin, and The
Devotions of the Cross, he writes : ‘The peculiar feature, then, of this transla-
tion is its rigid adherence to the metres of the original, and particularly to
that especial Spanish one, the asonante vowel rhyme, of which but a few
B qp 28 G g
450 NOTES TO ‘RHYTHM AND THE OTHER
scattered specimens exist in English, and these rather as samples of what
our language was incapable of producing to any considerable extent, than
of what it could achieve’ (Preface, p. ix). He quotes Lord Holland as saying:
‘The Spanish asonante is a word which resembles another in the vowel on
which the last accent falls, as well as the vowel or vowels that follow it; but
every consonant after the accented vowel must be different from that in the
corresponding syllable.’ He adds: ‘In English the case is very different.’
3* ^ Wildes celebrated nameless poem.'* Richard Henry Wilde (1789-1847)
was born in Dublin: his family emigrated to America 1797. Wilde was a
lawyer, Democrat Member of Congress, and Italian scholar. 1834^40 he
lived in Europe, chiefly in Florence, where he was responsible for the dis-
covery of the Giotto portrait of Dante on the wall of the Bargello chapel.
He published a biographical work on Tasso, with many verse translations,
in 1842, and left one volume of a life of Dante in MS. The ‘nameless jpoem*
is the lyric beginning: \
My life is like the summer rose
That opens to the morning sky . . .
It was intended, under the name ‘The Lament of the Captive’, to be in-
cluded in an epic which was never finished. It was printed in 1815 without
Wilde’s permission, won immense popularity, and was even believed to be
a translation from Alcaeus. For the full history of it see Our Familiar Songs,
by Helen Kendrick Johnson (New York, 1881).
285 . I. Rejected Addresses. Punches Apotheosis, by G. C. the Younger, 11. 1-2.
285 . 2. Browning. Home Thoughts from the Sea, 1. 7. Wordsworth rhymes ‘day’
and ‘Africa* in the sonnet ‘England! the time is come’, 1803.
285 . 3. Tennyson. The Beggar Maid, st. i, 11. 3-4.
286 . I. Rejected Addresses. The Rebuilding, by R. S., 11. 17-18.
286 . 2. Browning. The Flight of the Duchess, st. xi, 11. 63-64.
286 . 3. Keats. To 11. 37—38.
287 . I. Hilmir hjdlma skurir, &c. This example is given by George Perkins
Marsh, Lectures on the English Language . . ., ist series, 4th edn, 1863, p. 556,
where it is quoted from Snorri, Hattatal, 132.
287 , 2. ^Softly now are sifting*, &c. Ibid., p. 555.
287 . 3. Pulci and Redi. Marsh, op. cit., p. 558:
‘Take as an example of half-rhyme a stanza of ottava rima in the
twenty-third canto of the Morgante Maggiore of Pulci :
La casa cosa parea bretta e brutta,
Vinta dal vento; c la natta e la notte
Stilla le stellc ch’a tetto era tutta.
Del pane appena nc dette ta’dottc,
Pere avea pure e qualchc fratta frutta;
E svina e svena di botto una botte;
Poscia per pcsci laschc presc a I’csca;
Ma il letto allotta a la frasca ffi fresca.
STRUCTURAL PARTS OF RHETORIC — VERSE* 451
‘The following sonnet in the Pisan dialect, from a note to the works of
Redi, abounds in full line-rhyme:
Similimente • gente • criatura •
La portatura • pura • ed avenente •
Faite plagente * mente per natura •
Sicchen altura • cura • vola gente •
Callor parvente • ncnte • altra figura •
Non a fattura • dura • certamente •
Pero neente • sente • di ventura.
Chissua pintura • seusa • no prezenle •
Tanto doblata • data • bellessa
E addoressa • messa • con plagensa •
Gogna chei pensa • sensa • permirata •
Pero amata • fatta • vunnaltessa •
Che la fcrmessa • dessa conoscensa •
In sua sentensa • bensa • onorata
287. 4. Byron, The Siege of Corinth, Si, xxii, 11 . 1-2 or 3-4.
287. 5. Burns, These exact words are found in no poem of Burns. But in the
song ‘Twas even— the dewy fields were green’ comes the line ‘Her look was
like the morning’s eye’; and in ‘Blythe was she . . .’ ‘Her looks were like a
flow’r in May.’ This and the previous quotation are given in the same
words by Marsh, op. cit., p. 560, without exact references.
288. I . Die nobis, Maria, from the Easter Sequence Victimae Paschali often
ascribed to Wipo (Wippo, Wigbert), a Burgundian priest, fl. c, 1000-48.
‘This sequence is an excellent example of the transition from the rhythmical
Notkerian sequences to the regular rhyming sequences of Adam of St.
Victor and later writers’ (Julian, Dictionary of Hymnology, 1222). The dia-
logue is as follows:
‘Die nobis, Maria,
Quid vidisti in via?*
‘Sepulchrum Christi viventis,
Et gloriam vidi resurgentis;
Angelicos testes,
Sudarium et vestes.
Surrexit Christus, spes mea,
Praecedet suos in Galilea.*
In the later ‘liturgical dramas’, c.g. Sepulchrum and Peregrini, the answer is
often divided between the three Marys, See Sir E. K. Chambers, The
Mediaeval Stage, ii. 315, for a Sarum version, and A. Gast6, Les Drames
liturgigues de la Cathidrak de Rouen (1893), p. 65.
APPENDIXES
APPENDIX I
Hopkins’s Drawings
The drawings here reproduced fall into two distinct groups: the small, often
minute pencil sketches with which Hopkins illustrated his two early Diaries,
much more numerous in the first (1863-4) than in the second (1864-6);
and the more ambitious ones from his sketch-books and a few letters,
which cover mainly the period from his schooldays to 1868, but include one
drawing of 1888 (No. 32) and another (No. 33) done six weeks before his
death. The interest of the first group of sketches is primarily in their context :
a reference to the position of each in the text is therefore given. Those in the
second group have been chosen by Mr John Piper for their merit as draw-
ings, and represent the best of Hopkins’s work in this field. They include
the 16 sketches published in the ist edn. The reproductions are of the same
size as the originals except for Nos. 3 and 24 which have been reduced from
c. 6 in. in diameter. Nos. 3 to 8 are in ink: most of the others in pencil.
They are arranged, so far as their dates are known, chronologically and
have been taken from the following sources :
I, Sketch-books
A. Green: ‘Sketches’ in italic impressed in gold. 4^X5! in. Inscribed:
‘Gerard M. Hopkins. March nth 1862. Esse quam videri.’ Mostly
pencil. Sketches range in date from 12 Mar. 1862 to 8 Aug. 1863.
Includes Nos. i, g, and 1 1 to 16.
B. Faded maroon: ‘Sketches’ in italic impressed in gold. 4^x5! in.
Follows on from A: sketches from Sept. 1863 to Ascension Day 1866.
Includes Nos. 19, 20 (loose), 21, 23, and 26.
G. Pale green: ‘Sketches’ in Gothic impressed in gold. 4JX5I in. In-
scribed: ‘G. M. Hopkins. Aug. 15, ’66’. Sketches are dated from
16 Aug. 1866 to July 1868. Includes Nos. 25 and 27.
These three sketch-books are described more fully by C. G. Abbott
in LLy ii. 167. They are all in the possession of Mr Lionel Handlcy-
Derry.
D. Identical with C. Dated 24 Aug. 1868 (i.e. the day Hopkins went to
St. Alban’s; see p. 186). Pencil. The last sketch in the book is dated
22 April 1889. In the possession of the Society of Jesus, at Campion
Hall, Oxford (see p. 531). Includes Nos. 29 to 33.
454
APPENDIX I
11. Loose Sketches
A. In the |X)ssession of Lady Pooley. Some taken from the above or
similar sketch-books. These include Nos. 2, lo, 17, 18, 22, and 28.
B. In the Hopkins Collection at the Bodleian: mainly architectural
sketches, maps, and water-colours done as a boy; but includes No. 3,
the pen-and-ink heading to his early poem, A Vision of the Mermaids
{Poemsy p. 18; facsimile published OUP, 1929). Also No. 24 (for
which see letter to Arthur Hopkins: LL, hi. 189).
G. Letter-headings, &c. Nos. 7 and 8 are headings to letters addressed
to his brother Arthur which have not survived. No. 6 is on the back of
an undated fragment of a letter, probably also to Arthur Hobkins,
found with GMH’s letter to him of 26-30 Nov. 1888 (LL, iii. 180^ and
two letters to him from C. N. Luxmoore. In the possession of Mr
Handley-Derry.
\
III. Family Scrap-book
Dark green: 7 X 9^^ in. Given to (?) Arthur Hopkins by Everard Hop-
kins, Christmas 1869. Sketches mainly by Arthur H. In the possession
of Mr Handley-Derry. No. 5, the heading to a letter to GMH’s sister
Milicent, which has not survived, is the first sketch stuck in the book;
No. 4 was found loose in it.
On Hopkins as a draughtsman Mr John Piper writes as follows:
Hopkins used drawing primarily to illustrate his ideas for himself. Rarely
do the drawings pretend to be anything but analytical descriptions of things
he was at the time looking at closely. He trained himself to look at the objects
and phenomena of nature carefully by all possible means, and one of these
was drawing: and he sketched so intently that the results often carry over
some exciting personal news. When he was twenty he wrote to Baillie ( i Aug.
1864) : T have now a more rational hope than before of doing something —
in poetry and painting . . . about the latter. ... I have great things to tell.*
After he had decided to be a priest four years later, he wrote, also to Baillie
(12 Feb. 1868) : ‘You know I once wanted to be a painter. But even if I could
I wd. not I think, now, for the fact is that the higher and more attractive
parts of the art put a strain upon the passions which I shd. think it unsafe
to encounter.*
He thought about painting only in poetic terms : his intense apprehension
of the visual world of observed form and colour can easily mislead one into
thinking that the painter in him could have got the upper hand. But the
brilliance and freshness of the words he used, if transmuted into paint or
drawn lines (for instance, in the descriptions of skies) might have looked
nothing more than an intelligent interpretation of the habits of the age. His
drawing reaches what he would have called a Parnassian level in poetry.
‘Now it is the mark of Parnassian that one could conceive oneself writing
it if one were the poet.* (To Baillie, 10 Sept. 1864.)
HOPKINS’S DRAWINGS
455
He was carefully admiring of the pre-Raphaelites, and much influenced
by Ruskin both as critic and draughtsman, but judicial. ‘Ruskin, it seems to
me, has the insight of a dozen critics, but intemperance and wrongness un-
does all his good again.’ (To Patmore, 28 Sept. 1883.) Their drawings in fact
have the same explanatory urgency. But the ultimate amateurishness of
Hopkins’s critical approach to painting is brought out clearly by a comparison
of his Journal notes on a visit to the Royal Academy in 1874 (see pp. 244-7)
with Ruskin’s highly professional Academy Notes {Notes on Pictures; Royal
Academy, 1875, for instance).
He was always a particularizer in observation, which allows his sketches at
their best a special English merit; he was one who by nature centred and
converged on the local and the special as giving the best evidence of the
whole and of God. He thought with Blake that ‘to generalize is to be an
idiot’, and, as it affected his drawings, he was here at one with Bewick and
Palmer.
His own writing remains the best comment on the drawings here repro-
duced. A quotation from a letter helps to show his own approach to drawing,
and its value to him.
‘I am sketcliing (in pencil chiefly) a good deal. I venture to hope you
will approve of some of the sketches in a Ruskinese point of view; if you
do not, who will, my sole congenial thinker on art? There are the most
deliciously graceful Giottesque ashes (should one say ashs?) here I do
not mean Giottesque though, Peruginesque, Fra- Angelical ( !) , in Raphael s
earlier manner. I think I have told you that I have particular periods of
admiration for particular things in Nature; for a certain time I am
astonished at the beauty of a tree, shape, effect etc., then when the passion,
so to speak, has subsided, it is consigned to my treasury of explored beauty,
and acknowledged with admiration and interest ever after, while some-
thing new takes its place in my enthusiasm. The present fury is the ash,
and perhaps barley and two shapes of growth in leaves and one in tree
boughs and also a conformation of fine-weather cloud.’ (To Baillie,
10 July 1863.)
7 ( sir /). jy]
Fii>. H { SVC p. iij)
Fig, K) [see p. -V/)
Fig, 9 [.sec p. 22)
\
Fig. II [see p. 2:])
IKtS -
L
Fig. 12 [see p. 24)
Fiii.
' / 0 i\ ij *'^vUl;^‘
’ f - ^ ^
, y /» ^ ( r a J
Fig. /j jf, sy) Fig. 16 (see p. 17)
Fig. 14 {seep. 27)
. t'. i \ ..I i
Fig. 20 (sec p. -yo)
h<. : r./ . i- ' - . I.. i u..
Fig. 2/ ( see p. ‘jo)
UL|}^,'64
Fig. 22 {see p . ;;/)
■
, U: .•
i'6 {\ee F
Pl.A i ES
Hiodnv^: Utter tn Alihcrnt Hopkins
(>. ^Fashionable Varialion of the Sinkiriff lii^ure in the Lancers: now called the
'\Seitino of the Evening Star' ’
/€(jaB, ARttBUH.,
7 . Heading: letter to Aithur Hopkins
9 - iicdi^eunv leaves and blanches
II. 'Roik III till ilifl mini'. SliiiiiUiii. July. iHCnj
‘■“t cm.c^.wia £>.!(.„, (vr;',c,. 1^ o/
Mf,. ,, „
5 (nen- (LctM;. , ■t,.sk..«t , ".,,
ii>. ]V
\im. \Sludy f)(mt the difj above, Fteshwalrr (iale^ July 2J
yj. (',Uni(h. \')uh m nuil ^Jnly ! /<%]
\Sun (iotncr. ('Jijjs near the Needles Paint. July 12 J [iSGj)
hs . ,
'/i M' A , ^
A <
' M
-t
‘V .'
k;. \Sl. Bdillwldww. ;l«(’. :y. Vjj. Ikiw. Aslilnuldii ml Ainvlon Ahlxil
20. Trees amUmke on a bank. 'Sepl. /<%•;’
21. Man in a piinl
Apiil 'I. Day (if till' Dual ia(C. On Ihc Clu'iarU'
21. 'Balaglas, Isle of Man, Auif. 12 , 'yj*
APPENDIX II
Gerard Manley Hopkins as Musician
By JOHN STEVENS
I. INTRODUCTION'
‘Every impulse and spring of art seems to have died in mc^ wrote GMH
in 1 88 1 to RB, ‘except for music, and that I pursue under almost an impossi-
bility of getting on. Nevertheless I still put down my pieces for the airs seem
worth it ; they seem to me to have something in them which other modern
music has not got. I have now also one little piece harmonized.’^ This short
quotation suggests several of the questions which are worth asking about
GMH as a musician. Why should music have been the only art to spring
freshly in him in his last years? Why did he find progress in it so difficult?
Did he get profit from his studies in harmony and counterpoint? What sort
of attention should we give to his harmonizations? Why did he think his
‘airs* (i.e. melodies without accompaniment) worth putting down, and what
was it they had ‘which other modern music has not got’? These questions
lead naturally on to others — whether his melodic art owes anything to Greek
music, to Gregorian chant, or to ‘old English’ music; whether the distinc-
tiveness of his airs is a matter of mode and scale, or of rhythm and metre?
It is not long before we have to face more central issues: GMH’s view of the
general relationship of music to speech, of a song to the poem behind it;
his feeling for the different potentialities of musical and verbal rhythm; and
his insistence that his poems and songs are ‘as living art should be, made for
performance*. We are bound to ask why GMH set so few of his own poems, and
what it was that led him to choose those of other poets which he did set. But
perhaps the most promising questions for anyone interested in GMH as an
artist are : do his musical airs provide for him, and for us, the notation that
poetry lacked ? can we learn anything about his response to poetry from them ?
and, does this ‘literary’ approach exhaust their genuine interest or not.
An editor’s introduction is not the proper place to attempt an answer to
all these questions, tliough it may be a useful place to raise them.^ I propose,
therefore, to confine these introductory paragraphs to close coinment on
three or four airs, the kind of comment that requires frequent reference to
* I most gratefully acknowledge the help and encouragement I
paring this Appendix from Dr H. S. Middleton of Frinity College, involved
has generously given up much time and thought to the delicate pro
^ There are three published accounts of GMH as a musician: J’
house, ‘GMH and Music’, Music and Utters 227 sets out ^
trends of GMH’s ‘new’ thought, using chiefly the
exercises in counterpoint; C. C. Abbott prints, m an app pTyjjTJg songs-
views of Dr H. G. Steward and Dr J. Dykes Bovver on some '^ GMH s songs.
Dr W. H. Gardner, in an appendix to his GMH, earlier
attempts a wider view, accepting uncritically, however, the opinion
authorities.
B 6028
Hh
458
APPENDIX II
the music itself, in the hope that answers will emerge to at least a few of the
questions framed above — the questions about the relationship of his airs to
poetry. I ask the reader to grant for the time being what cannot be argued
here — that the prime interest of GMH’s songs, for the musician as well as
for the reader of his poetry, is melodic^ that his gift was — whatever it might
have become — a gift for melody. This method of proceeding has some bio-
graphical justification. Each setting of GMH’s of which we have knowledge
began as a tune — and it was often a long time before anything was added to
it. The tune, therefore, even in a complicated setting such as The Battle of
the Baltic (Song lo), bears a direct relationship to the poem and jean fairly
be considered in isolation from the harmony. i
In the simplest airs the metre of the music reinforces the metm (as dis-
tinct from the rhythm) of the poem. Thus in T love my lady’s eyes’uSong 8)
the verse-stresses fall regularly on the first and third quavers of tl;ie \ bar.
The ‘missing’ fourth stress of each line is supplied by extending the third
stress over a whole bar. This accords with GMH’s remarks about ‘symmetry
and quadrature’; it is also what anyone setting these w'ords in a conventional
19th-century style would normally do. The slight oddness at the end, where
the music gives the stress; ‘And her eyes dainty-warm’, with the previous
lingering over ‘form’ with two pauses, is a welcome break in regularity.
The break is suggested but not dictated by the words — by the need for addi-
tional stress on ‘dainty-warm’.
‘Again with pleasant green’ (Song i) is a setting of another of RB’s poems
in this likeable, light metre. The tune brings out the metre, exactly as in the
song just described, until line 5, ‘And back on budding boughs’. The line
has potentially a nervous, physical energy not quite in keeping with the rest of
the stanza. GMH responded to this in three ways: (i) by doubling the time-
interval between stressed syllables — it is now' a space of two crotchets instead
of two quavers; (ii) by repeating the phrase, in the same rhythms; and
(iii) by making the repetition the melodic climax of the song (bars 12-13).
This certainly is more than a ‘notation’, metrical and rhythmic, for the
poetry: GMH here interprets and, so to say, glosses the rhythm of the poetry
in musical terms. These terms are satisfactory, sufficient to themselves. It
might be better, in fact, to use the metaphor of translation. GMH ‘trans-
lates’ the poetic rhythm into melody (rhythm and pitch). But (and this is
the interesting thing) at the back of the musical ‘translation’ one can sense
and appreciate his original poetic interpretation. It is no very bold conjec-
ture that the muscular alliteration, ‘Back on budding boughs’, struck his
car more forcibly than anything else in the verse.
The first verse establishes the melody, the musical design or ‘inscape’ as
GMH would have called it. This musical design remains unchanged, in
essentials, throughout the six verses of this strophic song. Sometimes the
distinctive phrase coined for ‘Back on budding boughs’ is appropriate (c.g.
verse 3), sometimes less so. In other details GMH shows by slight musical
variations his delicate and inventive response to the changing pattern of the
poem. These variations are now rhythmic, now melodic, now of ‘expression’.
Rhythm is the chief factor when for the words ‘evil lot' (bars 79-80) the dot-
ted crotchet is replaced by a triplet of semiquavers and two quaver rests :
GERARD MANLEY HOPKINS AS MUSICIAN 459
the effect is of an abrupt disturbance on the word ‘lot’. Sheer melodic exuber-
ance seems to account for the triplet Quavers on ‘She will not leave her love'*
(bar 1 14), but it is an exuberance encouraged by the words. Finally, in the
phrase which follows, ‘To mix with men . . .’ {119-20), what we may call
‘quality’ or ‘expression’ reinforces the effect of the unexpected musical rcst:^
‘men’ bears a strong accent, and ‘her art’ is marked by a sudden piano.
Throughout the song, then, music stylizes the pattern of sound (which is
usually also the pattern of meaning) as GMH heard it in the poem. There
is nothing much else to say musically about this song, except to observe that
the delightful little sprig of melody which forms the ‘opening and conclud-
ing symphony’ grew out of the emphases in bars 20-2 1 and 99.
One last comment, however, must be made. To read GMH’s criticisms
of his sister Grace’s accompaniment to this air — ‘the accompaniment should
have a shower of semiquavers or demi-semis, with great chords at certain
places’ — is to realize afresh the intensity of his sensuous experience, imagined
or actual. This intensity is even more marked in his ambitious and achieved
airs, but it is present even in the meticulous detail of the ‘sprightly but
smooth’ song we have been considering.
There arc several reasons why GMH may have been attracted by a poem
‘Past like morning beam away’ (Song 12) written by RB’s brother, John.
Not the least is its rhythm. The words are not easily accessible and I give
them here from the volume, Wet Days, by A Farmer, 1879:
Past like morning b6am away.
Dedth life’s frost descended.
Dust to dust, clay to clay.
Wh6n tears are Glided
Th<^rc’ll be time for posies ;
Bring your c/ypress wreaths today,
Tomonow scatter roses.
Think today how fair she shone —
Oh, the sweetest blossom!
10 Not yet of new life begun
In another’s bosom.
One night for sorrow;
And wh^n our grief its course has run,
Name her joy tomorrow.
1 5 How yet through the dark clouds look
For the silver lining?
Warmth and light which lis forsook
Elsewhere arc shining;
Ovirs the dull 6mber.
20 Sh6 has opened k new book,
W 6 the closed rem^mber.^
* Each note in music has three characteristics: duration, pitch, and quality .
(By ‘quality’ I mean degree of force and tone-colour or timbre.) 1 he combination
ol notes in succession, which makes a melody, has, correspondingly, rhythm,
melodic shape, and ‘expression*. i-
* The poem as set by GMH has the following variants: line 13 our-your, me 17
which — omitted.
APPENDIX II
460
I have marked accents to show the underlying metre. The rhythm of the
words closely follows this metre, though there are one or two places where
the rhythm only confirms the metrical stress very lightly (e.g. line 16: ‘For’)
and one where the speech reverses a foot and ‘counterpoints* it, as GMH
would say, against the metre (line 20 : ‘Opened a new book*).
The poem is not throughout in ‘sprung rhythm’, of course, but there are
several lines where the reader has to remember that ‘one stress makes one
foot’ — i.e. in lines 3, 4, 12, 17 (in GMH’s version), and 19. ‘Dust to dust,
clay to clay* is exactly analogous to ‘There to meet : with Macbeth’ and ‘as
ye sweep : through the deep*, which GMH quotes more than once as isolated
instances of sprung rhythm.* To see how GMH handles this rndtre in his
music is interesting. At the beginning each stress occupies, or dominates, a
whole bar of 4 lime. Then, as in Song i , he varies it : in line 2 eich stress
takes ^-bar only, but with an extra J-bar making up the four, the ‘quadra-
ture*, the mind expects ; line 3 follows the pattern of line i ; line 4 follows
line 2. After this the rhythms become more subtle. One of the things in con-
temporary music which GMH rebelled against was the ‘principle of sym-
metry and quadrature’.^ This had, he thought, ‘been carried in music to
stifling length and in verse not far enough and both need reforming ; at least
there is room, I mean for a freer musical tune and a stricter verse-prosody ’.^
It is curious that he never thought of using the modern device of bars of
irregular length. But at least he did his utmost to vary the balance of phrase
with phrase, by varying the number of bars in each. His ‘freer musical time’
is achieved by the trick already described of varying in his music the interval
of time between the stressed syllables (in verse these come roughly at regular
intervals) . The last two lines of verse i provide a good example :
I 2 34 1234 123 4 2 34
I Bring your cypress | wreaths — to | day — TonK)r|iow scalier loses |
This is a more complex and subtle effect than any so far described. Bars 1 5-1 G
are conventional enough ; but in bar 1 7 the strong verse stress on ‘-mor-’ is
introduced on the weak last beat of the bar, to be followed in the next bar by a
weak syllable on the strong first beat. The deliberateness of the whole pro-
ceeding is emphasized by the melodic jump, the reiterated semitone and
the marks of expression. The effect is of an almost muscular contortion,
analogous to seemingly perverse metrical marks in the poems : e.g.
And features, In flesh, whdt deed hc^cach must do;'^
The contortion in both cases gives body and w^hat GMH describes elsewhere
as ‘markedness’, ‘rhythm’s self*.*
There are many other instances in ‘Past like morning beam’ of GMH’s
meticulous translation of his reading of the poem into musical terms, some-
times unexpected. In bar 44 the holding back of the first syllable of ‘blos-
som’ and shortening it gives it an emphasis, a small exploding emphasis.
* See LLy i. 45. . . r
^ LL, i. 1 19: ‘The principle, whether necessary or not, which is at the bottom 01
both musical and metrical time is that everything shd. go by twos and, where > ou
want to be very strict and effective, even by fours.* * LL, i. 120.
^ Harry Ploughman {Poems, p. 108) : sec Gardner’s note, p. 249, and facsimile m
IL, i. 262. * LL, i. 4 C-
GERARD MANLEY HOPKINS AS MUSICIAN 461
Bars 48-49 are even more curious — the strong musical accent on a weak
beat which is also a weak syllable certainly has the effect of upsetting any
four-square-ness. What was GMH hoping to achieve here? It would be
unlike him to aim at such an effect merely for the effect’s sake. ‘Another’s
bosom* must refer to God. So the violent and unexpected pointing of ‘an-*
simply marks the dark saying emphatically. The music here is more explicit
than the poem.
‘Past like morning beam' is, finally, a fairly advanced example of a tech-
nique he particularly cultivated. He described it just before his death in a
letter to RB : \ the air becomes a generic form which is specified newly in each verscy
with excellent effect".^ GMH here explains in words what he does to some
degree in all his written-out strophic airs. Even in a piece like Song i the
variations are considerable; in songs like the one under discussion each
verse seems like a new exploration of the melodic road.
The melody is musically, I think, rather dull, except in the long melisma
of verse i where it weaves and winds an intricate pattern of its own. GMH
was surely experimenting here, particularly in the first half of the melody,
with the idiom of plainsong.^ In bars 1-12 and still more in 39-56 there is
a self-imposed restriction which governs the ‘motion’ (more conjunct than
usual) and the note-values used (chiefly crotchet and minim).
This song confirms what we know of GMH as a melodist. This music,
although sufficient in itself, grows out of the ‘inscape’ of the poem. It is not
so much a transcription as a Uanslation into music of a pattern of sound and
sense which GMH may sometimes have felt more vividly, more physically,
than the author himself. Two points have become clearer. First, his genuine
musical impulse was stimulated rather than restricted by the necessity he
felt to ‘specify’ afresh in each verse of a song the ‘generic form’ of the melody.
Secondly, he had a firm grasp of the different potentialities of musical and
poetical rhythm. For instanc e, whereas in poetry the characteristic Hopkin-
sian effects of tension, strain, and muscularity are achieved through regular
stresses, round which a varying number of syllables group themselves, in
music the formal framework makes it impossible to achieve these effects
except by irregular stresses ‘counterpointed’ and syncopated across the
accepted and expected four-square metre.
Fallen Rain (Song 1 3), perhaps the most highly wrought of all GMH’s airs,
exhibits all the characteristic procedures already described and adds some
more. It is hard to believe that the elaborate melodic structure is built on a
poetic foundation as slender as this :
Silent fell the rain
To the earthly ground ;
Then arose a sound
To complain:
Why am I cast down
From the cloud so sweet,
Trampled by the feet
Of the clown. . . .
* LLy i. 305 (29 Apr. 1889): my italics.
* There are also hints of his love for Purcell.
APPENDIX II
462
The air takes its being from that intensification of the poem’s own rhyth-
mic and dramatic life which we must believe was either GMH’s immediate
response to a poem which he liked or was the result of long dwelling in
imagination upon it. The musical refrain has nothing unusual about it : each
bar of g carries two poetical stresses. The rest of the melody is more curiously
worked. In bar 2 we meet a new device — cross-rhythm, marked by heavy
accents. The effect of the three groups of two cutting across the two groups
of three quavers is to displace the metrical stress on ‘On’. A similar displace-
ment is achieved by a quaver rest in bar 5. It also enables the composer to
‘imitate’ falling rain. Just as GMH believed that poetic rhyth^ should
imitate the sense —
Then a lurch forward, frigate and men,'
so this song is full of ‘imitations’ in music, by rhythm and by pitcli
GMH comes nearer in this song to the natural rhythms of ordinary
speech than he does in some other settings. But the music never fails to f)re-
serve a life of its own. Unlike some i yth-centiiry and modern composers of
declamatory song, GMH does not allow the natural rhythms of speech to
dry the goodness out of, or (to change the metaphor) to impose their will
upon, the musical phrase. He has an excellent shaping car for melody. In
Fallen Rain, for example, one has only to compare the minor melodic peaks
in bars 2, 16, and 32, or the major peaks, 4-5, 20-21 , 35, to sec how in ‘speci-
fying’ the tune afresh in each verse he is careful to grade and shape tlie rises
and falls of the melody. (The only criticism that might be made is of the
repetition in verse 3 of the climax on A flat, 35 and 38.) There are particular
dramatic and rhetorical eflects: 31 tremblings — grace-note; 32 ceased — rest;
33 bowed — melodic curve; 35 me released— sudden ‘vivace and explosive,
but light, high Ab; 38-39 Flashed like agony — chromaticism, quarter-tone,
‘agitato*, violent cutting-off of ‘agony’ on 2 semiquavers; &c. All these
particular effects arc patterned into the melody. So far from dissipating its
musical life they intensify it. His airs are never merely ‘literary’. ‘Music is com-
position which wholly or partially repeats the same figure of pitched sound
(it is the aftering of pitched sound). This was a truth he had pondered on.
When RB asked him why in his poems he employed ‘sprung rhythm’ at
all, GMH replied :
Because it is the nearest to the rhythm of prose, that is the native and natural
rhythm of speech . . . combining, as it seems to me, opposite and, one would have
thought, incompatible excellences, markedness of rhythm — that is rhythm’s self
— and naturalness of expression.'
It cannot escape notice how like this theory is to his remarks about the
vocabulary of poetry:
it seems to me that the poetical language of the age should be the current language
heightened, to any degree heightened and unlike itself, but not ( I mean normally:
passing freaks and graces are another thing) an obsolete one."*
Sprung rhythm is, to twist his phrase, ‘the current rhythm heightened*.
' Ij}ss of the Eurydice, 1 . 41 (Poems, p. 78) : see Z/., i. 52.
* See p. 290. ^ LL, i. 46. ^ LL, i. 89.
GERARD MANLEY HOPKINS AS MUSICIAN 463
I find the same paradox in his music: a determination to use the ‘native
and natural* combined with the highest degree of ‘heightening’, ‘marked-
ness’. First, there is his interest in the fundamental truths of the ear: he is
fascinated by modes, heptachords, and quarter-tones, and by the twos and
fours ‘at the bottom of both musical and metrical time’. But he is also clearly
determined in his songs, particularly the more ambitious ones, to achieve
singularity, heightening, distinctiveness of musical effect. As a final example
we may take the off-beat accents in bars 1 5-1 7 of ‘Sky that rollest ever’ (Song
14) and the repeated and slurred (not tied) notes in the phrase ‘All thy
wild waves leaping’ (bars 30-31). Here there is a great intensification of
off-beat, off-stress life. The phrase seems crammed to bursting and yet holds
its frame intact.
In June 1880 GMH wrote:
I wish I could pursue music; for I liavc invented a new style, something standing
to ordinary music as sprung rhythm to common rhythm: it employs quarter-
tones. I am trying to set an air in it to the sonnet, ‘Surnmci ends now’.^
This remark, obscure as it is, has never been (perhaps never can be) satis-
factorily explained. But I do not doubt that the answer is to be found, not
by speculating about his harmonic theories, but by considering the paradox
just described. His design was, quite simply, to extend the melodic resources
(this included also the rhythmic) of music by a return to fundamentals- -to
the infinite subtlety and expressiveness of human speech and to the ‘world
of mathematics’ in music. This was in 1880. Within a year or so he had
written all his most interesting airs. We may well ask whether the musical
‘experts’, who dammed up this stream of clear-flowing melody and diverted
it into a standing pool of ‘species' counterpoint and correct fugal ‘answers’,
ever realized what an opportunity had been misst^d. They succeeded cer-
tainly in suppressing GMH’s instinctive perception of melody as a valid
(for him, the valid) medium of musical creation and as a fundamental key
to a world of music older, wider, and more universal than that around him.
2. SOURCES
(i) Bodl. MS Mus. c. 97. This is a collection of papers recently acquired.
It contains, besides Songs i, 4, 5, 10, 13, 14, 21, 22 of the list below, a copy
by GMH of Hood’s ‘Oft in the Stilly Night’ to the traditional melody, and
another of A Christmas Carol by John Spencer to words by William Robert
Spencer. Someone else has copied out a roughly harmonized setting of John
Byrom’s hymn, ‘My spirit longs for thee’ ; it is not one of the usual setting
and I have not been able to trace it. This MS also contains photographic
copies of the counterpoint exercises, (iv) below.
(ii) GMH’s letters to RB, in the possession of Lord Bridges. With or in
these letters are Songs 8, 21 (2 versions), a quotation from Song 2, and
Songs 26a, 26c.
(iii) Campion Hall Papers— Music N. 2? In these papers are more ver-
1 LL, i. 103: and see Song 13. , .1
* Campion Hall Papers— Music N. i is a sheaf of MS notes by GMH on Fourth
Species of Counterpoint’ with annotations by Sir Robert Stewart dated luesday,
7 Sept. [1886]. No music.
APPENDIX II
464
sions of Song 22, the only copies of Song 12, and the melodies without words,
Songs 23-24.
(iv) Campion Hall Papers — Music N.3 : contains ‘Exercises in Counter-
point : Note against Note’, and ‘Exercises ; firm chant’.
3. LIST OF SONGS
The following table sets out alphabetically the various settings which
GMH mentions in his letters to RB, RWD, and others. The music of
about half of them has been lost. In some cases it may never |have been
finished. \
First line
Title
Author
SettirH^s extant by
GMH
1 . Again with pleasant
Spring Odes i
RB
melody
green
2. Behold! the radiant
Spring Odes 2
RB
2 bars of melody
Spring
3. Does the south wind
Ruffling Wind
RW^D
only
none
4. Done to death by
Song from Much
Shakespeai e
melody without
slanderous tongues
Ado About
words
5. Get you hence, for I
Nothmi*
Song from The
Shakespeare
melody
must go
6. If aught of oaten stop
Winter s Tale
Ode to Evcninif
Collins
none
7. I have loved flowers
—
RB
none
8. I love my lady’s eyes
Song
RB
melody
g. Margaret, are you
Spring and Fall
GMH
none
grieving
10. Of Nelson and the
The Battle of the
Thomas
chorus (unison)
North
Baltic
Campbell
with piano
II. Orpheus with his lute
Shakes])eare
accompani-
ment
non(‘
12. Past like morning
Past like morning
John Bridges
melody
beam
13. Silent fell the rain
beam away
Fallen Rain (The
RW’D
melody
14. Sky that rollcst ever
Rainbow)
W^ayward Water
RWD
melody
15. Summer ends now
Hurrahing in
GMH
none
16. The crocus while the
Harvest
The Year
CP
none
days are dark
1 7. The dappled die-away
(The Crocus)
Morning Midday
GMH
none
18. The feathers of the
and Evening
Sacrifice
Song
RWD
none
willow
19. —
‘Swan’
7
none
20. Thou didst delight my
—
RB
none
eyes
21. What shall I do for the
GMH
melody
land
GERARD MANLEY HOPKINS AS MUSICIAN
First line
Title
Author
Settings extant by
GMH
22. Who is Sylvia
23. —
24. —
Shakespeare
two melodies
and various
accompani-
ments
melody without
words
melody with-
out words
25. Setting of Barnes
Barnes
none
poems
26. Setting of Greek:
(a) Sappho’s Ode to
Sappho
melody
Aphrodite
{b) epws dviKare pid-gav
Sophocles
none
(c) Ava^oppiyye^ u/xvoi
27. Settings of Latin
Pindar
melody
none
Note: Fr D. A. BischofT, S.J. catalogues (as 4A) ‘an unpublished musical composi-
tion “A1 Fresco Polka’” in The Mamiscripts of Gerard Manley Hopkins [Thought
(Fordham University Qiiarterly), Dec. 1951, Vol. XXVI]: but all efforts to
trace this have failed.
Editorial Note
Small slips and eccentricities in musical grammar have been corrected without
comment. Additions by the editor are enclosed in square brackets; other emenda-
tions are indicated by footnotes (for example, in Song i , ‘42, F, rest, D : MS
means that in bar 42 the symbols referred to appear in GMH’s MS as shown after
the colon and not as shown in the printed musical text) . Marks of expression have
been given their normal modern abbreviations (c.g. rail, for rallentando) or stan-
dardizations (e.g. a teinpo for al tempo). In putting the words to the songs the division
into syllables has been standardized. GMH’s punctuation and spelling, however,
have been exactly reproduced. No attempt has been made to find a ‘best’ text of
the poems used. All GMH’s phrase-markings have been retained in the transcrip-
tion; but his slurs have generally been omitted, since the proper fitting of syllables
to notes is already conveyed either by the grouping of quavers or by the exact
spacing of the syllables. References are to: Poetical Works of Robert Bridges,
0. U.P., 1953; Poems of Gerard Manley Hopkins (ed. Bridges and Gardner) O.U.P.,
3rd edn 1948; Selected Poems of Richard Watson Dixon, Smith, Elder & Co., 1909;
Poems by Coventry Patmore, George Bell & Son, 5th edn 1894 (2 vols) ; Poems of
Gray & Collins, O.U.P., 3rd edn 1937; Oxford Book of English Verse, 1915.
4. THE SONGS
1. Spring Odes: I. Invitation to the Country.
Words: RB {Works, pp. 252-4).
Music: Bodl. MS, ff. i-iy (melody; autograph) ; f. 2 (one verse with piano
accompt, second verse underlaid ; not autograph) .
Reproduced in facsimile : Gardner, ii. 381.
J^ote: GMH’s long strophic setting is of stanzas i, 3, 4, 5» 7 ? ^ ^ of RB s
poem, with an added ‘opening and concluding symphony to the words,
B e «28 I i
APPENDIX II
466
‘Cuckoo, cuckoo, sweet springtime’, &c. Grace Hopkins set accompani-
ments to the airs in June 1880 (LL, i. 103) ; the accompaniment mentioned
above must be one of them. On Grace’s advice and that of Wooldridge
GMH increased the range of the melodies (LL, i. 105). He lamented to
RB that Grace’s settings were not bold enough: ‘The accompaniment
should have a shower of semi-quavers or demisemis, with great chords at
certain places. On the words “And where the bare trunks”, where a note
is four times repeated, the chord should have been varied four times, rising
or descending, an obvious and beautiful effect of counterpoint,, and not
been repeated, as she has done. If I could make my own harmorjies much
of the expression of the piece could be conveyed in the accomplaniments
of course’ (LL, i. 105). He also defended the airs against the oharge of
monotony; the music ‘seems to me rather cheerful’ (LL, i. 1 19). pee also
LL, iii. 156 (2 Mar. 1880) : ‘the most finished and ambitious things yet’.
The air is interesting chiefly because it illustrates in the slight variations
between the verses GMH’s subtle response to different shades of rhythm
and meaning in the words. Compare, for example, bars 5, 31, 57, 109, 135.
The ‘monotony’ is the result of lack of modulation. It is a well-constructed
tune, nevertheless, with plenty of ‘bone’ and ‘frame’ in it. See Introduc-
tion, p. 458 above.
Sprightly but smooth.
£-|
— IV" ■ "X ILT ~K '
-i£_
EiTz:
A - gain with plca-sant green Has spring re-newed the wood And
where the bare trunks stood Are lea - fy ar-bours seen And
back on bud - ding boughs, — back
on bud - ding
boughs Come birds to sport And pair, whose ri - val a-mor-ous
A - maze, a - maze,
a - maze the scent-ed
42 F, rest, D: MS J*.
468
APPENDIX II
- pays their la - hour done, To see the root - less
65
in the ground Burst in - to leaf and shake Its grateful
75
scent, — Its grate -ful scent a - round, Its grateful
Slower.
scent, — Its grate - ful scent a- round. 4. Ah now, an ev - il
Is his who toils for gain Where crowded chimneys
stain — The heavens his choice for - got: — ’Tis on
GERARD MANLEY HOPKINS AS MUSICIAN
469
100
That sweet Spring, sweet Spring-time comes to him,
Slower.
' - - -q
WiB ^
_ /Tv
That sweet —
bzM
S
pring, sw'cet
Spring - time
comes to him.
105
HA — 1
r.:-, -
t~ ■ ZiZr>_l
1 —
7 -J*
Li^ — — zi
L T • 1
1 -
5. And coun-lry life I praise And lead be-cause I find
no
The phi-lo-so - pine mind
Can take no mid-dle ways: — She
*^5
will not leave — her — lovc» — will not
120 Soft.
leave her love To mix with men, her art Is
l/}udeT.
all to strive a - bovc, — a - hove, a - hove — The
crowd or stand a - part, a - hove, a - hove The
Slower
• 130
r — t^ri
|Sz
1::^
^
P 1 ^mZT ]
J
EB
m
crowds or stand a - part. 6, Then leave your joy-less ways, My
Guckoo» cuckoo!
159: note, ‘Opening and concluding symphony*.
at end: note, ‘The corrections in ihe rhythm arc due to the learned Dr. Rohncr’.
471
GERARD MANLEY HOPKINS AS MUSICIAN
2 . Spring Odes: IL Reply
Words: RB {Works^ pp. 255-7).
Music: none; a correction to the opening phrase is given in LI, i. no (iq
S ept. 1880) : ‘I forgot to say that the first phrase of the second Spring Ode
should be, not —
but —
Be - hold! the ra- diant Spring
Be - hold 1 the ra - diant Spring
and so on throughout except for “Then what charm company” —
Note: See under the first Spring Ode [Song i above] for references to both
Odes together. The quotation given above is sufficient to suggest that the
second Ode was set to a variant of the tune of the first.
3 . Ruffling Wind.
Words: RWD {Poems^ pp. 147 ff.).
Music: none.
Note: GMH was ‘delivered of an air’ to this poem at Inversnaid in Sept. 1881
(LI, ii. 65) . At the end of October it was still unfinished and ‘only written
in sol-fa score’ — this suggests an attempt at harmonization (LI, ii. 84).
Nearly five years later he described his slow and elaborate work as a set-
ting ‘for solos, chorus and strings’ (LL, ii. 135). ‘I endeavour*, he con-
tinues, ‘to make the under parts each a flowing and independent melody
and they cannot be independently invented, they must be felt for along
a few certain necessary lines enforced by the harmony. It is astonishing
to see them come; but in reality they are in nature bound up (besides
many others) with the tune of the principal part and there is, I am per-
suaded, a world of profound mathematics in this matter of music : indeed
no one could doubt that.’
4. Song from Much Ado about Nothing.
Words: Shakespeare, Much Ado, v. iii. 3.
Source: Bodl, MS, ff. i8-i8y (not autograph; pencil attribution to GMH),
The words have been fitted to the music by the editor : in the manuscript
only the title is given. The task is quite a straightforward one since the
slurs were marked in preparation for words by the original copyist. The
accompaniment continues throughout in the MS.
Not previously reproduced.
472
APPENDIX II
Note: GMH nowhere refers to this song in his letters. It has been described
as ‘a poor tune, badly harmonised’ (LL, ii, i^o{e)). The latter is certain.
Considered simply as a melody it is not very interesting: it has GMH’s
characteristic lack of modulation (he would not necessarily have seen this
as a defect). But as a setting of a particular text it shows, especially in
St. 2 (e.g. bars 34-38) melodic inventiveness closely linked, as usual, to
the imagery (‘Graves, yawn . . .’) and rhythm (‘uttered’) of the poem.
Solo.
Gives her fame — which never dies : So the life that
died with shame, that died with shame, Lives in death with
glo - ri - ous fame. Lives in death with glo - ri - ous fame.
* The accompaniment is without special interest and is not here given in full.
10 B: MS quaver.
GERARD MANLEY HOPKINS AS MUSICIAN
473
Hang thou there up - on the tomb, prais - ing her when
Tutti.
20
I am dumb. Par - don god - dess of the night
_--r—
Those that slew thy vir - gin knight, For the which with
songs of woe Round a - bout her tomb they go:
Mid - night, as - sist our moan, help us to sigh and groan.
w — ~rm-
I' ■ ■■ ~ ~t" •
— ^*1-'
hea - vi - ly, hea - vi - ly. Graves, yawn, and yield your dead.
-p" "
]~m-
' _ . inm-—
_
■itFtr;
£ :
be
ut - ter, ut -
ter - ed,
ut -
I — : r'
i i
Solo.
> „ ■!?-_
hea - vi - ly, hea - vi - ly. Now un - to thy
— I*
bones good -night; Year - ly will I do
38 B: MS ? A.
474
APPENDIX II
5. Song from The Winter* s Tale.
Words: Shakespeare, Winter's Tale, iv. iv. 294.
Source: Bodl. MS, f. 17 (melody; autograph).
Not previously reproduced.
J^ote: GMH nowhere refers to this song in his letters. It is one of the most
attractive of his modal tunes and, as Dr Dykes Bower has pointed out,
defies ‘all attempts to harmonize it* {LL, ii. iyo{d)). The setting is a good
example of a technique which GMH often practised : . the air becomes
a generic form which is specified newly in each verse . . ( 1889/LZ,, i. 304).
you to know. Dorcas. Whi-thcr? Mopsa.Ol whi-ther? D. Whi-thcr?
M. It be -comes thy oath full well Thou to me thy
10
se - crets tell. D. Me too, let me go thi - ther.
M. Or thou go’st to the grange or — mill. D, If to ci - ther
thou dost ill. A. Nci-ther. D. What, nci - ther? A. Nei-ther.
D. Thou hast sworn my love to be. M. Thou hast sworn it
more to me. Then whi - ther go*st? say, whi-thcr?
1 1 rest: MS semibreve rest. 12 MS J* 23 rest: MS semibreve rest
475
GERARD MANLEY HOPKINS AS MUSICIAN
6, Ode to Evening.
Words: William Collins {Poems of Gray and Collins, pp. 273-5).
Music: none.
me: GMH’s setting of Collins’s Ode, ‘If aught of oaten stop, or pastoral
song’, was begun before he left Stonyhurst early in 1884— ‘some music,
Gregorian, in the natural scale of A. . . Quickened by the heavenly
beauty of that poem I groped in my soul’s very viscera for the tune and
thrummed the sweetest and most secret catgut of the mind. What came
out was very strange and wild and (I thought) very good. Here I began
to harmonise it, and the effect of harmony well in keeping upon that
strange mode (which, though it is, as far as notes go, the same as the
descending minor, has a character of which the word minor gives you
little notion) was so delightful that it seems to me (and I think you would
find the same) as near a new world of musical enjoyment as in this old
world we could hope to be. To the novelty of effect the rhythm and a
continued suspense natural to the mode and easy to carry further contri-
bute too. It is meant for a solo and a double choir singing in unison, the
organ or a string band bearing all the harmony. It is in three movements,
something like a glee, the third returning to the first’ (XL, i. 199 ff.). In
Jan. 1885 he describes the setting, humorously, as ‘more like volcanic
sunsets or sunrises in the musical hemisphere than anything ye can con-
cave’ (LL, i. 202). Then, again, in March: Tt seems to me like a new art,
the effect is so unlike anything I ever heard. The air is plain chant where
plain chant most departs from modern music ; on the other hand the har-
monies are a kind of advance on advanced modern music. The combina-
tion of the two things is most singular, but it is also most solemn, and I
cannot but hope that I have something very good in hand’ (LL, i. 2 1 1 ff.).
The musical effects of plainsong were much in GMH’s mind at this time
and it is in the context of a long discussion of plainsong that he makes his
boldest claim to originality as a composer: promising to send the Ode,
he says to Bridges, ‘Study it yourself till you see my meaning (it is slow
and easy to play) ; it is a test too : if you do not like it it is because there is
something you have not seen and I see. That at least is my mind and if
the whole world agreed to condemn it or see nothing in it I should only
tell them to take a generation and come to me again’ (LL, i. 214). There
is no composition by GMH that one would more like to see.
7 . I have loved flowers.
Words: RB {Works^ p. 263).
Music: none (Abbott notes, LL, i. 152, that it has disappeared).
^ote: GMH had long been acquainted with this poem (and with music to
it by RB?) before he reported that he had ‘a feeling air’ for it (LL, i. 86,
94> This was in June 1880, when he first seems to have become con-
vinced that he had something to say in music. Wooldridge saw the first
* That is, in the Aeolian mode or ‘descending melodic minor scale of A.
APPENDIX II
476
two verses and thought there must be an oversight in the phrase ‘Pro-
claim the spirit’s desire*. GMH cannot check this because Grace has not
returned the rough copy; but he gives a verbal equivalent for the musical
rhythm — ‘Betrdying the heart’s desire, betraying the heart’s desire,
desire O’ — and, as a footnote, the rhythm in monotone:
re, de - sire; , then
A year later he was finishing the air (LL, i. 1 36) which he said in an earlier
letter was to be rather different for the third verse. He lammts that he
can only manage two-part counterpoint; ‘If I could only gen good har-
monies to I have loved flowers it would be very sweet, I think.’ A\year later
again (Oct. 1882) GMH sends the completed air to RB with th^warning:
‘Playing it is of little use, unless it were on the violin ; the snapping of a
piano cannot give the extreme smoothness I mean: it must be sung. If
you do not like it I think it must be a misunderstanding for properly
rendered I believe it could not fail to please you’ (LL, i. 152).
8 . Song.
Words: RB {Works ^ p. 278).
Source: Bridges’s Collection.
Reproduced in facsimile: LL, i, 118.
Note: GMH here sets the first stanza only of three. In the final printed ver-
sion of the poem the words were considerably changed: the offending
‘dainty-warm’ (‘too like the Miller's Daughter': LL, i. 1 18) was removed.
GMH sent RB the music to this poem in Jan. 1881 (LL, i. 1 15, 1 18) with
the comment that ‘it is rather trifling but not more so perhaps than the
poem’. A rough draft of the letter adds that ‘by rights it should have a
quarter-tone in it’ (LL, i. 1 15). In April the same year, when GMH was
‘gropingly’ making his way into harmony, he thought the air scarcely
worth harmonizing (LL, i. 125).
Despite its brevity this air show's GMH’s meticulous care for every
detail of phrasing, every nuance of expression. The use of grace-notes and
of pauses in the middle of phrases is characteristic.
Allegro marcaio.
I love my la - dy’s eyes A - bovc the beauties rare She
most is wont to prize, A - bovc her shad - ed hair, A -
GERARD MANLEY HOPKINS AS MUSICIAN
477
- bove her fea-ture’s form-
And her lips dain - ty warm.
g. Spring and Fall.
Words', GMH {Poems, p. 94).
Music: none.
Mte: During Jan. 1881 GMH told both RWD and RB that he was setting
plainchant music to this poem, which he had written the previous Septem-
ber (LL, ii. 4a; i. 119). There are no further references.
10 . The Battle of the Baltic.
Wo)ds\ Thomas Campbell {Oxford Bool no. 581, st. 1-2).
Source: Bodl. MS, ff. i i-ia (autograph).
Not previously reproduced.
Note: This is GMH’s most ambitious surviving composition. It is a setting
for double chorus (in unison) and piano of the first two verses of Gamp-
belfs poem, which he much admired {LL, ii. 23). GMH began late in
1884 to harmonize his tune ‘made long ago’ and asked RB to get the
opinion of his expert friend (name deleted) on the opening verses, all that
now survive. The composition was intended for orchestra — ‘if I cd.
orchestrate’ ; GMH feared that the most striking feature of the song, the
long ground-bass in verse 2 (first stated, bars 13-14, and misnamed ‘basso
continue’), could not be properly brought out except by instruments.
This ‘chime of fourteen notes’ u as to illustrate ‘It was ten of April morn
by the chime’. There was to be ‘a great body of voices’ and ‘the ground
bass shd. be done by bells or something of the sort’. (All the above
comments from LL, i. 201 ff., 207; 1885.) The expert evidently complained
of lack of modulation and timidity in harmony : ‘ — found it so plain, far
too plain’ (LL, i. 213). GMH was obliged to explain that he admired and
could produce modulations, ‘but in the two first verses ... I wanted to
see what could be done (and for how long I could go on) without them'
(LL, i. 219). If the expert had seen succeeding verses, ‘the timidity in
harmony would not have struck him’ (LL, i. 240). See also LL, i. 213-14,
where GMH speaks of modulation ‘as a corruption, the undoing of the
diatonic style*.
The interest of this song, as of the simple airs, is in melody. The ground-
bass is, surely, conceived as a contrapuntal melody capable of subtle
rhythmic rather than of harmonic development. GMH does not begin to
explore its harmonic richness. One rhythmic point calls for special com-
ment: GMH insists (LL, i. 208) that ‘the triplets shd. be taken as made
with notes of the same length as the couplets, that is the quaver is the
in both and no shorter in the triplet than in the couplet*. This is indeed
to use musical grammar in a private way; if his instructions are taken
3 3^.
I. GMH ‘slurs* all triplets in the piano and in the voice part throughout.
GERARD MANLEY HOPKINS AS MUSICIAN
481
482
APPENDIX II
Both.
11. Orpheus with his lute.
Words: Shakespeare, Henry VIII, iii. i. 3.
Music: none.
Note: GMH told RWD in Dec. 1887, ‘I am at work on a great choral fugue!
I can hardly believe it* (LjL, ii. 154). Three weeks later he wrote to RB,
‘I have a fine fugue on hand to “Orpheus with his lute”; but I shall not
hurry with it, but keep the counterpoint correct* (LL, i. 270). It was prob-
ably never finished,
12. Past like morning beam away.
Words :]ohTi Bridges [Wet Days, 1879, p. 8),
Source: Campion Hall MS, ft\ 5-51; (melody; autograph); ff. 6-61; (ditto:
in duplicating ink).
Not previously reproduced.
Note: GMH only once refers in his letters to this song. He writes to RB in
Apr. 1881, T have a good setting for “Past like morning beam away” by
your brother and am trying to harmonize it in four parts. But as it is
partly in the Gregorian minor (which has no leading note) I expect I
shall find it no easy task’ {LL, i. 125). The first verse is evidently in-
tended to form a coda as well as an introduction. The long melismatic
passage on ‘scatter roses’ is not therefore disproportionate. The song is
discussed above, Introduction, pp. 459-61.
Past like morn - ing beam a -way I
Death, life’s frost, dc-8ccnd-ed. Dust^ — to dust, — clay
GERARD MANLEY HOPKINS AS MUSICIAN 483
dark—- clouds look
For the sil - ver
GERARD MANLEY HOPKINS AS MUSICIAN
485
J J
65--
. ^
m
-tfd- - _ • J
■■ ^ —
li - ning?
Warmth
L.m
and life —
for - sook
Else
1 ^
where are
We the closed-
re - mem - her, re -
Da Capo,
1
— - -- 1 !
J— J
m J ■■ 1
r ^ U
1
!
i
mem ------- her.
13 . Fallen Rain.
Words'. RWD {Poems, p. 148).
Source'. Bodl. MS, fF. 3-31; (melody; autograph).
Reproduced in facsimile: LL, ii. 169; Gardner, ii. 389.
Note : GMH did not think it would be possible to find, ‘for a work of pure
imagination, anything anywhere more beautiful than Fallen Rain\ He
mentions it and, later, his setting of it several times in his letters. In
Mar. 1879 RWD sent him a setting made by his fellow townsman,
William Metcalfe [LL, ii. 19). It was not until two years later that GMH
announced he had set an air himself to the poem {LL, ii. 47-48) . He always
wished he could harmonize his own melodies, and on this occasion in
particular because the melody ‘is so very peculiar that I cannot trust any-
one to harmonise it’ {LL, ii. 84). In another letter GMH describes the piece
as ‘difficult and experimentar {LL, ii. 57). He is never more explicit.
The song is discussed in the Introduction, pp. 461-2, above.
486
APPENDIX II
Andante molto legato ed espressivo.
Si - lent fell the rain — On the earth -ly ground; Then a -rose a
GERARD MANLEY HOPKINS AS MUSICIAN
487
semprerall fo^ vivace.
smile 1 bowed And the wccp-ing cloud Me re-lcased
forte agitato.
rail, di molto. pp
Then the cru - el smile Flashed like a-go-ny And I fall and
a tempo, mf
— k— la-T”'
=]J ■zri?!!| — ^ __
^
' p,
die Through a wile. Why am I — cast down From the
m -I "
— I - ~ — *^T~p — \ ^ ^
cloud so sweet; Tram -pled by the feet — Of the clown, by the
feet — Of the clown?
39 2nd symbol: GMH adds footnote, ‘This note is a quarter-tone below F. For
the piano play as below:’
Flashed like a-go-ny
14 . Wayward Water
Words: RWD {Poems, p. 143).
Source: Bodl. MS, ff. 4-4^ (arranged as canon for two voices; autograph);
ff* 5-5V (melody and words; autograph, but the space left for piano
accompaniment has some pencilled notes presumably by Grace Hopkins) ;
ff. 6-62; (with piano accompt by Grace Hopkins, st. i and 2 only; not
autograph) ; ff. 8-82; (the same, complete).
Not previously reproduced.
Mte: This poem, ‘Sky that rollest ever’, caught GMH’s imagination in
the spring of 1881 at the same time as Fallen Rain [Song 13]. ‘I was
quite inspired by this and have an air for it which I should like you to
hear’, he writes to RWD, ‘for it is wholly fathered by the poem, but at
B8
APPENDIX II
present it is unharmonised* (ZZ, ii. 54). He goes on to consult RWD
about the refrain which he was ‘forced to add* and says in a postscript
that he is getting Grace to harmonize the song. In contrast to Fallen
Rain it is not ‘difficult* or ‘experimental*. Grace, he later told RWD, liked
it the best of all his airs (ZL, ii. 84). See also ZZ, ii. 97: an oversight on
Grace’s part.
It is perhaps true that ‘the tune is of no particular interest’ — that is, to
the musician (ZZ, ii. 169). But it has an interest for the student of poetry,
because the melody with its rubatos (bars 18-20), displaced accents
(15-16, 30), ‘over-reaving’ (31-33) is in itself a commentary up6nthe way
GMH felt the rhythms of poetry. I
The version in canon is a partial demonstration of the truth GMH dis-
covered, in 1888: ‘that the tunes I make are very apt to fall intoTugues &
canons’ (ZZ, i. 270) . The canon has two marginalia : (i) ‘How do you think
it sounds?*; (ii) ‘This is what they call a false relation, is it not?*-4it is not.
Andante molto legato ed espressivo.
Sky that roll - cst ev-er. It is gi-ven thee To roll a-bove the
ri-ver Roll-ing to the sea: Tru - cr is
thy mir-ror In the
lake or sea. But thou lovest error More than con-stan - cy,
More than constan - cy. And the ri - ver run-ning Fast
piii mosso.
in-to the sea, His wild hur - ry shunning All thy love and thee,
Not a mo-men t stay- ing To re-turn thy smiles, Sees thee still dis-
GERARD MANLEY HOPKINS AS MUSICIAN 489
forte agitato.
1
r=fc
play -ing All thy sun -ny wiles; Till thou fall - est weeping; Then more
fu-rious-ly, fu-rious-ly All thy wild waves Icap-ing Rush in-to the sea.
Thou that hadst thy mirror In theycarn-ing sea Why wouldst thou love
40
cr-ror More than con-slan - cy, More than con-stan-cy?
15 . Hurrahing in Harvest,
Words: GMH {Poems^ p. 74).
Music: none.
Note: GMH’s only reference to music for this poem is in a letter of June
1880; T wish I could pursue music; for I have invented a new style,
something standing to ordinary music as sprung rhythm to common
rhythm : it employs quarter tones. I am trying to set an air in it to the
sonnet “Summer ends now”’ (LL, i. 103). The original attempt seems not
to have succeeded ; the air is not mentioned again.
16 . The Crocus,
Words: Coventry Patmore {Poems, ii. 190).
Music: none.
Note: This, the only known setting by GMH of a poem by Patmore, was also
of special importance to the composer. RB saw and liked an early version
( ? melody only) . ‘The harmony came in the end to be very elaborate and
difficult* {LL, i. 199) : it was his ‘first attempt in harmony* and he sent it
in 1884 through a cousin to Sir Frederick Gore Ouseley ; but it was never
heard of again. GMH admitted that verses 2 and 3 were ‘a kind of wilder-
ness of unintelligible chords*; ‘but the first seemed to me very good*. By
comparison the Battle of the Baltic is to be ‘intelligible’ (LL, i. 2 1). There is
silence, then, about The Crocus for three years; in Jan. 1888 he discovered
that, with other of his tunes, it was suitable for treatment in canon (LL, i.
270). He proceeded then to make a counterpoint exercise of it. Sir Robert
490
APPENDIX II
Stewart saw the first verse (of three) and ‘gave it a very good mark (and
he does not flatter)’; the work was laborious, ‘but I now can do canon
easily and hope to have the other verses ready soon. Success in canon
beats the other successes of art : it comes like a miracle, even to the inven-
tor . . (LZ,, i. 277). This success, on which Sir Robert had set the seal of
his approval, clearly meant a great deal to GMH ; he wrote at the same
time. May 1888, to Patmore telling him with enthusiasm of the new and
daring attempt (LL, iii. 393) : ‘when all is done it ought to be sung by an
unaccompanied choir.* In September when he heard that his ‘war-song*
[Song 21] might be performed, he at once suggested, ‘but if sol why not
my madrigal in canon? a most ambitious piece and hitherto [successful
but suspended for want of a piano this long while. ... I can send you the
first verse to see — four parts ; of course no instrumental accompaniment ;
the canon is exact, at the octave, 4 bars off, between treble and t^or, and
runs in the first verse to 44 bars, I think* (LL, i. 290).* \
\
17 . Morning Midday and Evening Sacrifice.
Words'. GMH {Poems^ no. 48).
Music', none.
Note: In a letter to RB in Oct. 1879 (LL, i. 92) GMH asks, ‘Did you like the
song “The dappled dieaway Cheek’*?* Abbott notes: ‘Music for Morning
Midday and Evening Sacrifice^ as a pencil note by R. B. shows.* See also Z.L,
i. 87 and n.
18 . Song {The Feathers of the Willow).
Words: RWD {PoemSy p. 74).
Music: none.
Note: GMH expressed his admiration for this poem in June 1878 in his first,
long, celebrated letter to RWD, adding: ‘a tune to it came to me quite
naturally’ (LL, ii. 3). Three years later he refers to the air as ‘made long
ago and only now extant in my memory’ (LL, ii. 84). See also LL, ii. 19.
19 . The Swan.
Words: untraccd.
Music: none.
Note: the sole reference to a song with this title is in a letter dated Aug. 1884
from Patmore to GMH (LL, iii. 357) : ‘Pray let me have the music to the
“Swan” when you have finished it.*
20 . Thou didst delight mine eyes.
Words: RB [Worksy p. 274).
Music: none.
* Gardner, Study y ii. 391, takes LL, i. 304 (Apr. 1889) as stijl referring to work
on The Crocus. But the references in the future tense to canon and to Sir Robert
Stewart make this perhaps unlikely. I take LL, i. 304 with LL, i. 301 to refer to a
new unnamed song mentioned rather diffidently, LL, i. 298 (Feb. 1889).
GERARD MANLEY HOPKINS AS MUSICIAN
49 *
Note: GMH to RB, Sept. 1880: ‘I have now an air for “Thou didst delight
my eyes’*, which some day you shall see. Your poetry is highly songful and
flies into tunes’ (LL, i. 105). In April the following year he was trying to
harmonize it for RB, but by 27 Apr. he had given it up: ‘I hope you will
be able to judge of “Thou didst delight mine eyes” without accompani-
ment, for I do not see my way to one. The air is very marked and curious:
Dr Stainer would say it is “of a tonality” differing from the ordinary, but
what exactly is up with it I do not at present know’ (LL, i. 125).
2 1 . What shall I do?
Words: GMH {PoemSy p. 168).
Source: Letters to RB dated 7 Sept, and 25 Sept. 1888 (LZ, i. 282-4, 290-2)
(melody; autograph); Bodl. MS, f. 13 (with piano accompt by W. S.
Rockstro; another hand). In the first letter the song is in G major; in the
second it is in F major and contains some trifling revisions. It is this second
version which W. S. Rockstro set and which is here given without the
accompaniment.
Reproduced in facsimile (first version) : LL, i. 284. Reproduced in transcrip-
tion (second version) : ZL, i. 292.
Note: GMH describes ‘What shall I do for the land that bred me?* as *a
patriotic song for soldiers’. The words came to him first and then the tune,
‘very flowing and spirited’. The attempt, he felt, was worth it, ‘and yet
[it] is a task of great delicacy and hazard to write a patriotic song that
shall breathe true feeling without spoon or brag’ (ZZ, i. 283). Rockstro,
who is still remembered for his interest in old music, was staying with
RB at this time and must have made an accompaniment to the air imme-
diately. GMH was ‘honoured’ by this (ZZ, i. 289) ; but in the same letter
he maintained, against Rockstro, that the song was capable of contra-
puntal treatment (e.g. ‘canon at the octave two bars off’) and that it was
not ‘unlike modal music, but quite the contrary*. He agrees to transpose
the song to F (an easier key for soprano or tenor) — ‘all keys are the same
to me and to everyone who thinks that music was before instruments and
angels before tortoises and cats’. He is astonished and pleased to hear his
song is to be performed (ZZ, i. 289 p.s.) — why not also ‘my madrigal in
canon* [Song 16]?
The air, which is the only one extant to GMH’s own words, is more
conventional in rhythm and harmonic implications than he seems to have
realized. Its character is partly to be explained by its purpose — to be ‘a
patriotic song for soldiers’.
What — shall I do for the land — that — bred me Her
homes and — fields that fol - ded and fed me? Be
492
APPENDIX II
lO
Un-der her ban - ner Vll live — for her hon-our.
Chorus.
22 . JV/io IS Sylvia? \
Words: Shakespeare, Two Gentlemen^ iv. ii. 40.
Source: Bodl. MS, f. 14 (Tune A; pencil); f. 15 (rough harmonisation of
same) ; f. 16 (Tune B; pencil; with three verses underlaid).
Campion Hall MS, f. i (Tune A, piano version); f. (Tune A in
bass, piano version, no words) ; ff. 2-2v (Tune B with attempt at canon?;
pencil) ; f. 2 v upside down (Tune A, piano version; sketch for f. 1 ?) ; f. 3
top (Tune A in bass; pencil), bottom (Tune B in bass, descant above);
Y. 3^ top (Tune A, piano version; pencil), bottom (Tune A, piand version;
pen; with words). All these workings are autograph. The most finished
and worthwhile of the Campion Hall MS versions are on ff. i and 31;
(bottom). The song is given here from Bodl. MS, f. 14 (A) and from
the same, f. 16 (B),
JVote: GMH writes of this song in 1886 that the ‘tune is very old, almost
boyish; the setting done lately’ {LL, i. 240; ii, 135). It was twice to have
been performed at school-concerts in Dublin : on 30 June he tells RWD
that the performance is ‘tomorrow’ {LL, ii. 135) and that the song has
been set for duet and chorus, although made for a string orchestra; on
5 Oct. a ‘corrected and simplified* version is awaiting performance {LL^
iii. 1 76) but three weeks later he describes a miscarriage, ‘the bass fighting
shy of his part’ {LL, i. 240). GMH hoped that Who is Sylvia? was ‘tuneful’,
even though not his best work {LL, i. 240, 246). None of the surviving
drafts even approximates to the performing versions that he describes.*
Tune B is more interesting than Tune A (GMH never, incidentally,
refers to two tunes and it is possible that Tie had some sort of contrapuntal
working in mind). The ‘glaring false accent’ which has been criticised
{LL, ii. 1 69) is surely a deliberate effect in the opening phrase ; there is a
similar shift of accent in the last phrase.
* In LL, iii, app. iii, p. 427, is printed a letter to GMH from Sir Robert Stewart
(I. 2) which appears to be a detailed criticism of the setting for duet and chorus,
using Tune A. The letter before it (I. i) clearly also refers to GMH’s setting of this
same song: Sir Robert says ‘Nearly everything in your music was wrong’, and
GMH rather ruefully repeats the phrase to RB (LL, i. 240) : ‘Some faults corrected
by Sir Robert Stewart (though in the end he said almost everything was wrong. . .)•’
cm
GERARD MANLEY HOPKINS AS MUSICIAN
(A)
Who is SLl-via? what is she That all our swains com- mend her?
Ho - ly, fair, and wise is she: The heavens such grace did lend- her—
lO
y „ L j
L_ — H
That she might ad - or - cd be.
bar 10 adorid: written over admired in this version.
(B)
1. Who is Sil - vi-a?what is she That all our swains com -
2. Is she kind as — she is fair For beau - ty lives with
3. Then to — Sil - vi - a let us sing, That Sil - vi-a is ex -
5
- mend her?
kind-ness.
- cell-ing;
Ho - ly, fair and wise is she : The heavens such grace did
Love doth to- her eyes re -pair to help him of his
She cxcellsjshc excells each mortal thing up-on the dull earth
lend her, That she might ad - mi - red, That she might ad -
blind -ness And being helped in - ha - bits. And being helped in-
dwell - ing: To- her- let- us- gar - lands, To- her- let- us?
rail.
• mi - red, ad - mi - red be.
ha - bits, in - ha - bits there.
gar - lands. Let us gar - lands — bring.
494
APPENDIX II
23*
[Melody without words.]
Source: Campion Hall MS, f. 4. (not autograph(?); no attribution to
GMH).
Note: Presumably an unfinished song-melody. The repetition of bars 15-19
as 19-23 (with variant) suggests GMH*s usual way with a refrain. The
rit. (here equivalent to a pause?) as the highest note is reached (bar 15)
is another of his mannerisms.
tEE 3 -.
rqij-
—
25
33
24.
[Melody without words.]
Source: Campion Hall MS, f. 40, (autograph)*
Mte: This has every appearance of being a song-tune from the handling of
quavers and semiquavers and from the careful expression marks in bars
GERARD MANLEY HOPKINS AS MUSICIAN
495
1-2. It is probably unfinished; unless the | signature indicates a Da capo,
ending in bar 20 (the dominant seventh supports this).
rail.
13 G, F : MS. two crotchets.
25 . Settings of Earnests Poems.
GMH wrote to RB, 6 Oct. 1886: ‘You are quite wrong about Barnes’s
poems — not to admire them ever so much more. I have two good tunes
to two of them. I had one played this afternoon, but as the pianist said:
Your music dates from a time before the piano was. The parts are inde-
pendent in form and phrasing and are lost on that instrument. Two
choristers, who were at hand, sang the tune, which to its fond father
sounded very flowing and a string accompaniment would have set it off
I do believe. . . . The harmonies are not commonplace, with leave of
Mr. and there is plenty of modulation’ (LL, i. 229). Later in the
month he encloses music to a song of Barnes’s. It is ‘meant quite in earnest’
and he invites criticism of the counterpoint. He will be glad to be told of
any ‘downright blunder’, but from his tone clearly does not want more
radical comment. He goes on to elaborate the point already made above
— the song is polyphonic. Further he defends himself for the use of ‘dry
fifths’ : they are ‘intentional and necessary. For since it is the very office
of the third to fix the modality (not the tonality as they confusedly write),
the omission of it may be necessary to unsettle that or to allow, as at bar 1 2,
of another one: there the middle part softly asserts the natural minor by
the, to my ear, delicious rise of a tone* (LL, i. 23^40). In a postscript
GMH more than hints that ‘opinions’ should wait on ‘performance*. RB,
it seems, sent this song with Who is Sylvia? [Song 22] to Wooldridge; GMH
APPENDIX II
496
agreed that no harm is done, ‘but it is not worth his while’. He describes
the song then as ‘experimental but . . . slight’ (LL, i. 246). A letter to his
mother, written the same day (6 Oct. 1886) as the first mention of Barnes’s
poems, mentions tunes to two poems, ‘very suitable to the words and as if
drawn out of them’. GMH goes on to describe the performance in similar
terms to those already quoted.
26 . Settings of Greek.
(a) Sappho’s Ode to Aphrodite
Music: letter to RB, 28 Oct. 1886 (LL, i. 239).
Reproduced in transcription: Abbott in LL, i. 239,
Note : GMH’s comment is : ‘more curious than beautiful, but v^ry flowing
in a strange kind. It seems to be in the heptachord scale.’
I
(fl) Sappho’s Ode to Aphrodite (barred as for Dorian rhythm)
1 =
» » .«r-
Hoi - Ki -
6pov*, d - dd-vorr* *A - - 9p6 - 61 - Ta, irdt Al-
6
os 60 - A6 - ttAo-ke, Aid - CTO - |ial (te, d - oai - ai pi^T*
6 - vi - 01 -
3^-
oi 5 d - ^va,
ird - Tvi-a, (Tvi-a,) 60 - pov
(i) Sophocles’ Antigone, 781 ff.
Music: none.
Note: GMH sent his ‘plain chant notes’ to these lines to RB, October 1886,
with a letter discussing the nature of Dorian rhythm, ‘the most used of the
lyric rhythms’, and his own ‘fundamental’ discovery about it — that ‘the
Dorian bar is originally a march-step in three-time executed in four steps to the
bar* {LL, i. 233). His music, he points out, ‘greatly brings out the nature
of the rhythm. . . . Ahem, study it. You will find that it is (but not de-
signedly) composed, though it contains octaves, in the older heptachord
scale having the lower keynote on La (here E) and the higher on its
seventh Sol (here D) — as we should speak. The music therefore is neither
major nor minor, or is both and fluctuates between them, settling at last
on the minor keynote. The two modes are connected. . . . This old hepta-
chord scale is founded deeply in nature; ... I can also let you see some
other settings of Greek to music as curiosities and some of them (as indeed
the enclosed piece seems to me) as good in themselves’ {LL, i. 234-5).
GERARD MANLEY HOPKINS AS MUSICIAN
497
(c) Pindar, Olympians^ 2
Music: letter to RB, 26 Jan. 1881 (LL, i. 123).
Reproduced in transcription : Abbott in LL, i. 1 23.
Xote: GMH writes : ‘I have sometimes set music to a little Greek verse — to a
bit of a chorus in the Prometheus Bound and to the words dva^L<j} 6 pij,iyy€s
vfivoi in Pindar. . . . The above strain is not in Church plainsong, which, as
you are aware, allows no interval longer than the fifth.’
(c) Pindar’s Second Olympian
f — p- i — ■ — 1 n -^-r
Mm ' ■ ^ ♦
•A - va - - 96P - iiiy
YES
0 - iJivoi
27. Settings of Latin.
GMH mentions: {a) ‘my Tantum ergo* {LL, iii. 134) which he promises to
send to his mother — this was most likely a translation, not a musical
setting, of part of the hymn Pange lingua used separately at the service of
Benediction, &c.; (b) a Litany — T have composed a second part to the
litany I made and shall send it to Grace to be set presently’ (LL, iii. 1 22 ;
Mar. 1873, to his mother).
APPENDIX III
Philological Notes
By ALAN WARD
INTRODUCTION
The following notes are offered as a commentary on those entries in the two
early Diaries which might broadly be termed ‘philological’, and on which
the reader might feel the need of some specialized comment or information.
Most of these entries are concerned with the relationship between words ;
and it seemed important, first, to attempt to establish the kind of re-
lationship involved (where this is not obvious), and secondly, in those
cases where Hopkins may have supposed etymological relationship, to say
whether or not this was accepted at the time, and whether it can be accepted
today. Where etymologies or other linguistic problems are still in doubt,
it seemed relevant to discuss them in detail only when such discussion
would throw light on the note-book entries themselves.
As a poet and a scholar, Hopkins was naturally interested in the exact uses
of words and the delicate sense-differences between words of similar mean-
ing. As a more than usually accurate and comprehensive observer, he was
also closely interested in their form and sound. It is not surprising, there-
fore, that he was interested in etymology, at least in so far as this established
a relationship between words of different meaning and revealed the root
meaning from which they were presumed to have stemmed. That it was
this semantic aspect of etymology that attracted Hopkins is clear from
the word-lists in the note-books. But although Hopkins probably supposed
the words in most lists to be related, it is not clear that he did so in all
cases. It seems probable that in most cases his purpose in jotting down
these lists was not primarily to record or guess at etymological connexion,
but simply to record groups of words whose similarity in form and meaning
had interested him. Many of the lists could be considered as verbal exer-
cises, sense-variations on a formal theme; some even as miniature poetic
compositions in which the meaning or idea common to the individual words
forms the subject of the composition, which is given shape by the similarity
in form of each word to the other.
In attempting to interpret the entries, we must remember that Hop-
kins wrote them down for his own private use only. It was not intended that
they should be intelligible to anyone but himself, or should appear con-
sistent. Statements that seem emphatic in the note-books might well have
been qualified if meant to be read by others. (Compare, for instance, ^New
Inn Hall is quite a mistaken way of writing the name’ (p. 25), with ‘I believe
New Inn Hall to be a blunder’ (in a letter to Baillie: LL, iii, 222-3).) If is
fairly clear, from a study of those lists which contain etymological statements
or guesses, that there is a good deal of Hopkins’s own unchecked conjecture
500
APPENDIX III
there; and my search for possible sources has not revealed any that are
certain other than those specifically mentioned by him. Hopkins makes
several references to Liddell and Scott’s Greek-English Lexicon, and the etymo-
logical notes there were almost certainly the source for some other entries
and parts of entries. For the meanings of English words Hopkins must have
consulted some English authority, and there is slight evidence that he had at
one point used either Ogilvie’s Imperial Dictionary, or Todd’s revision of
Johnson (see p. 526). There is some evidence (at p. 518) to suggest also the
possible influence of Max Muller’s Lectures on the Science of Language ( ist series,
1861) : and Hopkins listed ‘Max Miiller’ as to be read in a mejmorandum
of Aug. or Sept. 1864 (p. 36). For other books that Hopkins may have
used, see the relevant notes below. \
In the following notes, contemporary views about the etymolo^ of words
mentioned in the word-lists, and about certain other problems \raised by
Hopkins, have been given where they agree exactly with or are closely
similar to Hopkins’s own. They are given partly for their own\ interest,
partly because of the possibility that Hopkins might at some time have seen
them himself or known of them at second-hand. The opinions are taken from
the main etymological dictionaries published in England between 1800 and
1864; the quotations drawn chiefly from Todd’s revision of Johnson’s
dictionary (1818), Richardson’s New Dictionary of the English Language
(1836-7), and Ogilvie’s Imperial Dictionary (1851), which was based on
Webster’s dictionary and took its etymologies almost verbatim from him.
Quotations are taken from Ogilvie rather than from Webster (whose
dictionary was the more widely used of the two) because of the slight evidence
that Hopkins was now using Ogilvie: he specifically mentions using the
Imperial Dictionary in a letter to Baillie of 1887 [LL, iii. 284), though then
aware that, etymologically, it is no authority.
The etymologies in these dictionaries were in many cases out of date by
the time Hopkins went up to Balliol, and do not reflect the great advances
that had recently been made in the etymology of the IE languages. But
there was little in English then available that Hopkins could have turned to
for up-to-date information about English words in general. The first volume
of the great New English Dictionary (subsequently reissued as the Oxford
English Dictionary) did not appear till 1888; and there seems to be no
evidence that he followed the major continental works, except as quoted by
Liddell and Scott, and by Andrews’s and White and Riddle’s Latin dic-
tionaries. In the following notes, therefore, such comments as ‘well known
at the time’, or simply ‘well known’, are to be taken to mean ‘commonly
stated in dictionaries and etymological works published in England between
1800 and 1864’. I have attempted to indicate consistently if any particular
opinion was common: where no contemporary views are quoted I have
found none to the purpose. Positive statements about etymology are to
be taken as true beyond all reasonable doubt; ‘probably* indicates a high
degree of probability. The presumed meanings of IE roots have been given
where they seemed relevant.
Books quoted more than once arc referred to after the first instance
simply by the author’s name, except where the fourth and fifth editions
PHILOLOGICAL NOTES
50 ^
(1855 and 1861 respectively) of Liddell and Scott differ, when the date of
the edition is added. (There was much revision of etymologies in the fifth
edition as a result of the publication of Curtius’s Grundzuge der griechischen
Etymologie.) The abbreviations are for the most part the familiar ones: the
least so may be EDD (for the English Dialect Dictionary^ ed. by Joseph
Wright), IE (Indo-European) OF (Old French), OI (Old Irish), MDu
(Middle Dutch), and W (Welsh).
One important matter remains to be mentioned. Many of the word-lists
and other similar entries throw interesting and sometimes valuable light on
Hopkins’s poetry. For example, a number of key-words in the Diary entries
appear also in the poems ; and the words there associated with them clarify
and particularize their poetic use. In the following lines from Summa :
‘For souls that might have blessed the time
And breathed delightful breath
In sordidness of care and crime
The city tires to death’ {Poems^ 148, 11 . 9-12),
it seems likely that Hopkins is using tires in a way that can be fully under-
stood only by reading his note on drill, &c., on p. 10. From that entry, in
which tire is said to be ‘connected with tero\ it seems clear that in the poem
he was thinking, partly at least, of tires as meaning ‘wears down*, ‘grinds
down’. Sometimes there is unmistakable use of an idea recorded in the
Diaries. On p. 7, L. grando is referred to grind and said to mean ‘splinters,
fragments, little pieces detached in grinding, hence applied to hail’. This note
at least partly explains the use o{ grind in TJu Loss of the Eurydice, stanza 7 :
‘there did storms not mingle? and
Hailropes hustle and grind their
Heavengravel?’ {Poems, 77, 11 . 26-28).
Similarly, the connexion of the words meadow, mead, meat, and maid with the
senses ‘strengthening’, ‘nourishing’ (on p. 4), is reflected in many of
Hopkins’s lines on the Virgin Mary: in 'Flu May Magnificat {Poems, 81), for
example, and The Blessed Virgin compared to the Air we Breathe, in which he
writes of the air as
‘This needful, never spent.
And nursing element;
My more than meat and drink’ {Poems, 99, 11 . 9-1 1).
The word-lists, too, make us aware that in such lines as
‘My national old Egyptian reed gave way;
I took of vine a cross-barred rod or rood’ {Poems, 37, 11 . 7-8)
‘Generations have trod, have trod, have trod;
And all is seared with trade’ {Poems, 70, 11 . 5-6)
the connexion between reed, rod, and rood, and between trod and trade, is
almost certainly more than the simple alliterative one of
‘Down in dim woods the diamond delves!*
502
APPENDIX III
NOTES
4 I . Hence mead . . . virga. Mead and meadow derive from a root meaning
‘mow’, as seems to have been quite well known at the time, though not,
apparently, to Ogilvie. Mead (the drink) is not connected, and appears to
have come from a root meaning ‘honey’. Meat is unrelated to the other
words and is to be referred to a root meaning ‘wet’, ‘damp’, &c. Thus mead
and meat do not appear to have any close connexion with the meanings
‘strengthening’, ‘nourishing’, and no suggestion of such a connexion seems
traceable in Hopkins’s possible sources, unless in Ogilvie’s note jUnder meat
that ‘In W. mathu signifies to feed, to nourish . . I
The observation concerning maid, virgo, and virga is a characteristic one.
Hopkins offers a parallel between the connexion of maid with mea^ and that
of virgo with virga : in both cases the words are similar in form aqd have a
similar sense-relationship, the first words in each pair meaning ‘young
girl’, ‘virgin*, and the second meaning young growing vegetations (as in a
meadow in the case of mead, as a green shoot in the case of virga), Andrews
assumes virga to be connected with virgo, but this is improbable : White and
Riddle give the etymology of virga as doubtful, but agree with Andrews in
referring virgo to vireo, ‘to be green or verdant’. Maid is not related to mead
or meadow. But it is doubtful if Hopkins was thinking here of etymological
connexion at all. Even if he were, the poetry of his parallel, which is in any
case the important matter here, would not in any way be injured.
4* 2, Horn. In this perceptive and ingenious passage it is not quite clear
whether Hopkins is assuming all the relevant words in it to be related to
each other and derived from the root to which horn belongs, or whether
he thought them all, etymologically related or not, simply derived from a
root or roots meaning ‘horn’. The former seems more likely in view of the
similarity in form of the words in question.
Kernel, granum, grain, and corn are related to each other. The relationship
of grain to granum was well known; and John Thomson [Etymons of English
Words, 1826) implies (with Ogilvie) thaX kernel is related to corn, and gives com
as related to grain and granum. The words are not, however, related to horn,
and their root-meaning was not ‘horn-shaped’, but probably ‘ripe’ or ‘to rub.’
KopwvLs, corona, and crown are related, but not to kernel, &c., or horn. The
relationship was well known at the time. The root-meaning of the words
was ‘bend’, ‘twist’, so that Hopkins was not far wrong here. In connexion
with Kopcovls, Kopwvrj, and the passage as a whole, Liddell and Scott’s
etymological note (1861) under Kopaf (tg. which we are referred under
Kopwvos) is of some interest:
‘Cf. KopojvT]; Sanskr. kdravas; Lar. [sic] corvus, comix, graculus; Old H.G.
hraban; our crow, raven; .... Prob. akin toonomatop. words Kpd^co, Kpeb^w,
our croak, Sanskr. krug. This root is also used in sense of curved, cf. Kopwvr),
Kopoivisi Lat. curvus [corvus), cornu, etc.’
(The 1855 edn has much the same, but the absence of raven is to be noted.)
Crinis is indirectly related to Kopcovls, but not to kernel, &c., or horn.
Hopkins is essentially right about the original meaning, though he should
perhaps have said ‘circle’ rather than ‘spiral’.
PHILOLOGICAL NOTES
503
Crown (of the head) was originally the same word as a king’s crown : it is
not related to icepa? or fcdpa, which derive from a root meaning ‘head*,
‘horn*, from which horn itself derives, and are thus unrelated to kemely &c.,
Kopwvlsy &c. Liddell and Scott (1855) remark under /cepa?:
‘The Lat. cornu, our horn: also found in Hebr. keren: akin to Kapa . . . .*
Ogilvie and Wedgwood {Dictionary of English Etymology, 1859-65) also give
the Hebrew keren as related to horn, and it is worth noting that Ogilvie adds :
‘The sense is, a shoot, a projection.’ Keren, ‘horn*, is not related to the other
words in this passage, but cornu and Kcpas are akin to each other (and so to
horn), Richar^on tells us that horn is ‘usually derived from the Lat. Cornu\
and Ogilvie and Wedgwood connect cornu with horn. Both Andrews {Latin—
English Lexicon (new edn, 1852) and White and Riddle {A Latin -English
Dictionary, 1862) give cornu as akin to Kepas ‘and Germ, and Eng. horn\
With regard to grow, cresco, &c., it seems that Hopkins is only tentatively
suggesting relationship with keren, cornu, &c. Grass and grow (commonly
held to be related at the time) do derive from a root meaning ‘to grow*, but
are not connected with any of the other words in this passage. Cresco comes
from a different root of the same meaning and is likewise etymologically
isolated here. Grandis is not related to great or to the other words, grandis
deriving from a root meaning ‘to swell’, and great from one meaning ‘to rub
(away)’, &c. Great is related to groot, which may possibly be the obsolete
spelling of groat{s) or of groat (the coin), but is more probably the Dutch groot
from which the English groat is derived. The connexion of Du. groot with
English groat seems to have been quite well known: Ogilvie, for instance,
writes under groati ‘D. groot, that is, great, a great piece or coin*, and this
connexion of groat with great was also common. Andrews and White and
Riddle both give grandis as perhaps akin to cresco, and with cresco connect
crinis’, and Ogilvie considers grow to be ‘probably the same word as L.
cresco . , A connexion between grow, grain, and great is implicit in Todd.
Curvus is related to Kopwvisi &c., and so is not ‘from the root horn\
Hopkins’s suggestion here appears to be his own.
For KopwvT], corvus, cornix, crow, raven, cornu, and curvus, see the passage
from Liddell and Scott under Kopa^ quoted above. The passage looks a
possible source for Hopkins’s remarks, though one would have expected
him to be less tentative had he been making conscious use of Liddell and
Scott. Kopwvrj, corvus, cornix, crow, and raven all appear to be onomatopoeic
in origin. For cornu and curvus see above. Hopkins’s guess (possibly sug-
gested by the Liddell and Scott passage) that raven may originally have
been craven is essentially correct, for although the OE word was hrdfn the
h- derives from an IE k~.
yipavos and crane branch from the same onomatopoeic root as crow, and
heron probably comes from the same group of onomatopoeic roots as
KopdvTj, corvus, comix, and raven. Heme is presumably the same word as
heron, though the OED does not record this spelling later than the seven-
teenth century. The etymological connexion of ydpavos with crane was well
known at the time, but I have found no possible source for the linking of
heron with these words.
Gomel and comus are related to each other, but probably not to any of the
504
APPENDIX III
other words in this passage. This relationship appears to have been quite
well known at the time. Ts said to* indicates some kind of source, and a
probable one is Ogilvie, who has under Cornell ‘Lat. comus^ from comu^ a
horn, or its root, from the hardness of the wood.* {Cornel is missing from
Richardson and Wedgwood, Todd and Thomson are less close to Hopkins,
and Andrews and White and Riddle give no etymology for comus.) The
corns on the feet are ultimately from L. cornu, and Hopkins’s surmise as to
the meaning is correct. This etymology was well known : as also the view
that corns are ‘so called because hard, like horn* (Richardson) .
Hopkins is quite right about comer, and the word is connectfed, as com-
monly supposed at the time, with L. cornu, 1
The ultimate origin of grin is obscure, but Hopkins’s suggesnon is most
unlikely. The word is not connected with horn, nor, apparently! with any
root of similar meaning; its root was probably onomatopoeic, l^have not
seen Hopkins’s suggestion elsewhere. ^
In view of Hopkins’s mention of the Swiss -horn, it is worth noVing that
one sense of Kepas in Liddell and Scott is that of a ^projection or elevation*
as of a mountain peak, like ‘the Swiss Schreck-A(7r«’.
For herna and Hopkins’s reference to Servius see p. 294. The quotation
from Festus given there appears under Hernici in both Andrews and
White and Riddle, Hema may derive from a root meaning ‘to stiffen’ and
seems unconnected with the other words in this passage, so that Hopkins’s
argument that herna ‘is a horn-like crag’ cannot be accepted. I have not
found the suggestion elsewhere.
Hopkins was mistaken over epvoy, though his second suggestion is nearer
the truth than his first. No connexion of epvos with horn seems traceable
outside Hopkins : Liddell and Scott ofi’er no etymology for the word, and
Hopkins was probably misled by its similarity in form with herna, horn,
and €pvv^. The root from which kpvos derives meant something like ‘to set
in motion’, and the word is thus unrelated to any of the others in this passage.
For Hopkins’s reference to Oppian, see p. 294. It may be worth adding
that this reference is given in Liddell and Scott (1861) under cpvos, where
Hopkins may have found it.
Also in Liddell and Scott, under epvv^, is the reference to Aristotle’s
Poetics ( 1457 ^ 33 ), the only place where the word is known to occur. For the
full quotation, see p. 294.
5. I. Fash is from OF fascher (so Todd), and is not connected with
fessus, fatiscor, Andrews and White and Riddle correctly give fessus and
fatiscor sls related.
5. 2. Grind • . . tactus. Gride is probably a metathetic form of gird ‘to smite’
(and not the reverse, as suggested by Todd (quoting Johnson)). The words
are of obscure origin, though probably not related to grind. Lingere, lick, and
Xeixciv are related to each other, as was well known at the time. But touch,
despite Ogilvie and Thomson, is not related to tangere.
5. 3. granum ... a fair chance, Granum and grain are not related to the other
words in this list : for their etymology see above. Related to each other arc,
however, grind, grit, and groat ‘grain*, whose root seem to have had the
PHILOLOGICAL NOTES 505
same meaning as the root of granum and grainy namely ‘to rub’ (though not
‘particularly together^), Hopkins’s explanation of the meaning of grit and
groats is thus essentially correct. Y ox gride and girdsco above. Grate probably
comes from a root meaning ‘to scratch* and is not related to the other words.
Hopkins refers to two different words greet, the first meaning ‘to salute’
and the second, apparently, the obsolete noun greet, ‘grief*, which does not
seem to appear in contemporary dictionaries, and which derives from
greet, ‘to weep’. These words are distantly related, though probably not to
the other words. Their origin is obscure, but they are possibly to be referred
to a root meaning ‘to call*. Although Hopkins is thus mistaken about greet,
his connexion of ‘grief’ with ‘rub’, from the comparison with tribulation
(since L. tribulare meant ‘press* as well as ‘oppress’), shows how alert an eye he
had for this kind of parallel. There are further examples of the same gift
later in the note-books.
Kpov€LV and Kporctv derive from different roots meaning ‘to strike’, and
crush and crash are of onomatopoeic origin: none of these four words is
related to the others or to the other words in the list.
Crumb and crumble, related to each other, may possibly be related to (as
was widely known) granum and grain, but are more probably to be referred
to a root meaning ‘to turn’ and would thus be unrelated to any of the other
words listed here. Hopkins has obviously included the words at this point
as an afterthought suggested by ^groats or crumbs*. Similarly the inclusion
oi grief seems to have been prompted by 'Greet, grief. . .*. Grief derives from
a root meaning ‘heavy’, ‘difficult*, and is not related to any of these words.
Gruff is of obscure origin : it appears to have been borrowed from Dutch in
the sense of ‘coarse-grained* (of cloth). An onomatopoeic origin is not impos>
sible, and this applies to all the gr~ words here except (probably) gride. It is
not clear, however, that all these words originally had initial gr-, and in any
case this gr- would have to have represented several different sounds. For
further support of ‘the onomatopoetic theory’, see p. 294. Max Muller
argued against this theory in both series of his Lectures (i86i and 1864).
Thomson connects grind with grit, and Ogilvie suggests that both may be
connected with grate : both refer us, under gride, to greet. Liddell and Scott
give Kpovetv as ‘akin to . . . Kporew*. Groat{s) was conamonly thought to be re-
lated to grit at the time, and the connexion of crash'wiih crush was assumed by
Richardson and others. It was well known that fragmentum and frangere, bit
and bite were related. But all this still leaves many of Hopkins’s suggestions
unparalleled, and it is more than likely that much of this passage is original.
5. 4. Crack, Hopkins is almost certainly right about crack, creak, &c., and
we clearly have his own conjecture here.
5. 5. Crook, Crook, crank, and cranky are related and stem from a root
meaning ‘to twist’, ‘turn’. Crick is of doubtful etymology, but is probably of
onomatopoeic origin. Kranke is difficult: it does not seem to be an English
word, even an obsolete one. Probably (unless meant for German krank
‘ill’) it is German kranke ‘(an) invalid’, and if so, is related to crook, &c.
These words have no etymological connexion with horn.
The connexion of crariky with crank is implied by Ogilvie, and he suggests
APPENDIX III
506
that crank is from the root of crook. Thomson considers crick (in the neck) to
be a diminutive of crook.
7. I . Grando. Hopkins seems to suggest that L. grandoy ‘hail’, is connected
etymologically with grinds but the words are unrelated.
7. 2. Grmt. This word appears to be of onomatopoeic origin : it is probably
not related to gruff ^ for which see earlier, p. 505.
7. 3. Foot. Of these words foot, pes, ttovs, and pada (Sanskrit, meaning
‘a step*) are etymologically connected. Pad, ‘go on foot*, is probably not
related to this group, but is related to path. Pat is probably ofj onomato-
poeic origin. 1
Hopkins may here have been following Liddell and Scott (1855) : under
rrovs we find : ‘The Sanscr. Root is pad, ire : hence Sanscr. p^, Lat. pes
ped-is, our pad, foot. Germ. Fuss, etc. : akin also to ttcSov, == Sapscr. pada
. . . .’ This note was revised in 1861 and the reference to pada dropped.
Pat is probably Hopkins’s own addition; I have not found it linked with
foot, &c., in any contemporary source.
8. I. Macbeth . . . throttling etc. This passage illustrates excellently Hop-
kins’s philological gift. He suggests that the use of cling here in a sense which
he took to be ‘starve,’ is connected with the ordinary sense ‘adhere’ through
some such notion as ‘closing the throat with inanition, throttling etc,’ This
notion Hopkins suggests as also the link between the word clammy (which
has senses closely akin to ‘clinging’) and the dialect word clam meaning ‘to
starve*. His discovery of this apparent semantic parallel seemed to him to
indicate that clammy and clam were etymologically connected.
It does not in fact seem that cling in the written language ever meant
specifically ‘starve’, but the OED records a transitive sense ‘shrink, shrivel
up* (of the body) which is clearly the sense here. But despite missing the
exact sense of this use of cling Hopkins nevertheless discerned the essential
idea behind it, the idea of ‘contraction*. He simply made the minor mistake
of referring the idea to the throat instead of to the whole body, a mistake
only clear to those with access to the history of the word.
The etymology and inter-connexion of clammy and the various words clam
are in many cases not clear. Clammy is clearly connected with an adj. clam,
‘sticky’, and a noun clam, meaning a ‘plastic mass’ and also ‘dampness*. On
the other hand, the verb clam {clem) is equally clearly connected with OE
clamm, ‘fetter*.
It thus appears that the verb clam and clammy are not directly etymologi-
cally connected. Yet Hopkins is again close, to the truth: clammy is derived
from an IE root meaning ‘agglutinate’, and clam {clem) from a different
extension of the same root meaning, probably, ‘to enclose*. The words are
thus indirectly connected. And Hopkins’s notion of ‘closing the throat . . .’
may well be right, since the development of clem, clam, from the sense
‘enclose, fetter’ to the sense ‘starve’ certainly suggests that the notion of
closing, either of the throat or the mouth, is behind the latter meaning.
As for claudere &c., although claudere, close, and /cActy (related to each
other) are not related to the other words, clasp and cleave (‘adhere’) are
indeed ‘distantly akin’ to cling, clam, and clammy, deriving as they do from
PHILOLOGICAL NOTES
507
two different extensions of the same IE root. Thus Hopkins’s idea of this
root ‘having attached terminations and inHexions to itself’ is essentially
correct. The sense of the tap-root was probably ‘conglobate, rounded’ ;
Hopkins is not far wrong in suggesting that the ‘original idea’ was that of
‘closing, or fastening together*.
Liddell and Scott (1861), for example, give claudo as related to icAcis; and
that close was also related was known at the time. (See Ogilvie under close
(vb.).) Wedgwood considered cleave, ‘cling to’, to be related to clam. But I
have discovered no source for the linking of claudere, &c., with cleave, or of
clasp with any of these words, and ‘probably distantly akin’ suggests that at
least some of these connexions were Hopkins’s own conjectures. That he
came so close to the truth here is a remarkable tribute to his acute observa-
tion and sensitive perception of the meanings of words. What a philologist
he might have made !
8 . 2. XiyLos . . . with slime. At/xo? does not seem to have been ‘originally
xXiii 6 s> Hopkins presumably consulted Liddell and Scott here, who say
of ‘The oldest form is said to have been Aet/xd?.*
Limus, ‘mud’, is connected with slime and lime, but not with clammy. It
is interesting that under the noun lime Ogilvie has ‘Sax. lim. lime . . . ; L.
limus . . . probably Gr. Xrjiirj, yXrjiJLrj, and allied to clammy. On this word
is formed slime. ^ And under slime: ‘Sax. slim . . . L. limus.'
Slum is first recorded in the early 19th century and is of unknown origin.
It appears to have been originally a cant word, and some connexion with
slime, although unlikely, is not impossible. I have not found slum in any
contemporary dictionary or etymological work.
8 . 3. claudo . . . tie. Hopkins is mistaken in stating that claudo, kXcIs, ‘etc.’,
are connected with ligo; nor is ligo related to limes, limen, and limus^
‘apron’, though these last three are related to each other.
Andrews and White and Riddle connect limes and limen: White and
Riddle alone derive limen from ligo and give limus as probably related (in
the sense of 'girdle', &c.).
9. I. slip. Slip and slipper are closely related, as was commonly supposed
at the time. To these, slide is distantly related and so, possibly, is slant. Slop
and the etymologically obscure slope are probably related to each other
but probably not to slip, &c. Slahby, ‘muddy’, is probably not connected
with any of these words.
That slabby is related to slip is assumed, for example, by Richardson,
who also mentions Horne Tooke’s view that slop and slope were originally
forms of the past participle of slip. I have not found any contemporary
work linking slide or slant with slip.
9. 2. 'nuts to him\ Baillie’s information, though plausible, was incorrect:
nuts in ‘nuts to him’ is not from German nutz but from English nut, and the
usage appears in English in the early 17th century.
9. 3. Earwig. These conjectures about the etymology of earwig show that
Hopkins had not looked far for information. The correct derivation (from
OE ear{e) and wicga) had already appeared in Johnson’s dictionary and
APPENDIX III
508
was the accepted one when Hopkins was writing (see, for example, Ogilvie).
I have not discovered who suggested that *earwig should be eaxwing* : the
first element of the word means, as Hopkins concludes, ‘ear*, and the
second element ‘beetle*.
9. 4. wigging . . . (shaky). Although a wigging might well have involved a
shaking, the word originally meant simply a ‘scolding’ and appears to
derive from the noun wig (of hair). If so, it is not connected with wag, &c.
‘There is, however, a dialect verb wig meaning ‘to shake*, connected with
wiggle and the -wig of earwig, and probably connected, as Hopkiils surmises,
with weak. It is possible that wag and waggle are related to these words also.
In any case, some influence of wag, waggle on wig, wiggle (or vice vtrsa), with
regard to sense or form or both, is quite likely. \
I have not found wigging, ‘scolding’, in any contemporary dictionary or
etymological work. \
10. I . tall. The reference is to The Pictorial Edition of the Works of Sliitkespeare,
ed. Charles Knight, 1842: Comedies, II, p. 138. The American sense of tall
that Hopkins refers to here is probably one of the following: ‘great; fine;
splendid; extravagant’, which are the only adjectival uses quoted in
Bartlett’s Dictionary of Americanisms (2nd edn, 1859). Bartlett calls this a
‘flash word’; and though Hopkins does not suggest that his unspecified
American use was a slang one, there seems to be no contemporary American
dictionary which records an un-English sense of tall, and the only originally
American uses of the word noted by the OED (‘exaggerated’, ‘large in
amount’, and ‘excellent’) are all staled to be either of colloquial or slang use.
These closely related meanings appear to be essentially the same as those
given by Bartlett; and the meaning Hopkins was referring to was probably
‘excellent’, since neither of the others seems close enough to the Shake-
spearian use he mentions.
10. 2. *Gusi* goust). This derivation of gust is correct and was well
known at the time. There is no note on this word in Knight.
Gusto was borrowed from Italian, and its close relationship with gust and
L. gustus was also well known.
10. 3. ... envy, I think. Hopkins appears to be mistaken here, but it is not
clear whether ‘generally* is to be taken with ‘English poetry’ or with
‘allowed*. Probably with the former: it seems the more likely thing for
Hopkins to have assumed.
10. 4. premises. Dr Dyne’s explanation of the origin of this word is sub-
stantially correct. The immediate derivation, however, appears to have
been from the French premisses, and it is this word which was derived from
L. praemissa. It is not quite accurate to say that the use arose from a
‘mistaken* reading of Latin legal documents : the reading must at first have
been correct, with the original meaning of praemissa becoming rapidly lost.
That premises derives ultimately from L. praemissa was well known, and
with Dr Dyne’s more detailed explanation cf. Richardson:
‘The premises are propositioncs praemissae; the propositions which
PHILOLOGICAL NOTES
509
precede or come before, (sc.) the conclusion . . and ^Premises, (in law,) —
circumstances premised or set forth previously, to the covenants, &c. Also
the houses, lands, &c. set forth, proposed, to be conveyed, &c.*
10. 5. DrilL Thrill certainly meant originally ‘to pierce* and the -/nV of
nostril and the second element of n£se~thirl have the same root as thrill.
Drill also originally meant ‘to pierce’, and may be related to thrill, &c.
Trill (‘to quaver*), however, is not related to any of these words and did
not originally mean ‘pierce*. It is a little surprising to find trill in this
group: either Hopkins was referring to the obsolete variant of thrill, or,
more likely, he was misled by a contemporary error (as in Richardson) of
thinking this trill and trill, ‘to quaver*, to be the same word. But it is not
impossible that he was thinking of the piercing quality of many trills,
which are usually (in practice) high-pitched. Both Richardson and
Ogilvie (among others) consider thrill, drill, and trill to be related.
Hopkins is wrong in thinking tire to be connected with tero. He may have
been following Ogilvie, who makes this connexion.
11. I. Flick. This first passage is a remarkable one. In flick, fleck, and flake
Hopkins offers an example of what is, in effect, a kind of vowel gradation
similar to that found in, for example, some verbs (such as sing, sang, sung),
but different in scope. Hopkins calls his grades ‘tones’, and each tone,
like each grade, expresses a variation or modification of a meaning common
to the whole series: and in both cases the shift in meaning is indicated
simply by a change of vowel in the words. The historical difference be-
tween the two types of gradation is that, whereas in the familiar type
the grades are always etymologically related, with Hopkins’s type this
is not necessarily the case. For instance, in the above case, flick is probably
not related to either fleck or flake', and fleck, if related to flake, is related
much more distantly (as far as we know) than sing is to sang. Hopkins
has here observed an important and still little recognized feature of the
language. The development of this kind of relationship, of ‘tones* in
the language, may be seen in many other words, particularly those of
onomatopoeic origin. For instance, we can contrast with flick not only
fleck and flake, but also the old verb flack, whose sense 3 in the OED is ‘to
flap, flick .... (Connoting a clumsier instrument and a ‘flatter* blow than
flick.)' We also have flitter, flutter (mentioned by Hopkins below, same
page), where flutter might well be considered the ‘tone ahove' flitter.
On p. 90 of his Essay Farrar wrote: ‘There are even broad general laws
by which the various degrees of intensity in sound are expressed by the
modification of vowels. Thus, high notes are represented by i, low broad
sounds by a, and the change of a or o to i has the effect of diminution, as
we see by comparing the words clap, clip, clank, clink, pock, peck, cat,
kitten, foal, filly, tramp, trip, nob, nipple, &c.’ Farrar is largely following
Wedgwood (vol. i, pp. ix-x) here: both these and Wedgwood’s remarks
provide interesting parallels with Hopkins’s passage.
It is not clear whether, in these remarks ahoul fillip and flip, Hopkins is
thinking specifically of etymological connexion or simply connexion in
meaning. Probably he is considering the latter as the clue to the former in
APPENDIX III
510
a kind of private musing which is not primarily concerned with establish-
ing etymological relationship: ‘seems connected with* strongly suggests
this.
The etymological relationship between these words is not clear in some
cases. Flick, fillip, and fiip appear to be of onomatopoeic origin. Fleck is
probably connected with flake, but not, apparently, yAihflick. Flay, however,
is related to flake, and also ultimately to flitch. Flit is not connected with
these words or with flee, but is connected with fleet and indirectly with fly.
Thus if Hopkins means that the group ^Flit , . . .flitter, etc.* are ‘variations*
of the stem of fly, flee, he is not altogether correct, though not faij wrong. Flee
is unconnected with any of these words, though fly is certainly connected
with flit, fleet, to fleet, flight, flutter, and flitter by a different ^tension or
‘variation* of the same root (except for flight, which is more closdy related).
Unconnected with either flee or fly are volare and volitare (though related, of
course, to each other). \
Little if any of this is likely to have been consciously derived from
books. It may be worth noting, however, that Wedgwood links flip with
flick, and the possibility that fleck, flake, flay, and flitch may be connected can
be gathered from Richardson. The views that fly and flee were once the
same word, and that flit was connected with fleet, and flight with fly, were
common at the time. Thomson connects fleet and flutter with fly, Richardson
flit and flitter, and Todd gives flitter as a corruption of flutter, and fly as ulti-
mately from volo (Thomson also connecting these two).
II. 2. Fluster . . . blow out. Hopkins’s remark that fluster is a ‘variation* of
flutter is an interesting one. The etymology of fluster is obscure : the only
words to be found outside English that seem possibly connected are the
Modern Icelandic flaustra (vb.) and flaustr (noun), which have much the
same senses as the English fluster. But the English verb was already in use
in the early 15th century. Fluster and flutter have had and still have
closely similar meanings. There is a dialectal sense of fluster, ‘to flourish or
flutter in showy colours* [EDD), and we talk of flustered people as being
in a flutter or (in slang) in a flap. There is also a sense oi flutter described
by the OED as ‘To throw (a person) into confusion, agitation, or tremulous
excitement*, though this is not recorded till the 1 7th century. On grounds
of meaning, then, there is some evidence to support a view that fluster is
a ‘variation* of flutter. However, there is no clear evidence thdX fluster ever
meant flutter^ (or something like it) : this and the absence of any further
evidence, other than from Icelandic, of j-extensions to the root pleu- (to
which flutter belongs), oblige us to considci: Hopkins’s suggestion as only an
interesting possibility.
Flatter is also of uncertain derivation. One of Hopkins’s suggestions may
well be, if not quite correct, at least very nearly so. The OED suggests that
flatter may be derived from a verb flatter meaning ‘flutter*, and of onomato-
poeic origin. This is probably correct, since the verbs flacker and flicker,
which also meant at one time ‘flutter’, both developed the sense ‘flatter’
or something very similar. And if the OED is correct, Hopkins’s ‘flutter
up* as the suggested sense-link between ‘flutter* and ‘flatter* is very likely.
Flatter is probably in English an onomatopoeic variation oi flutter, which is
PHILOLOGICAL NOTES 5x1
also what Hopkins seems to imply here. His alternative suggestions with
regard to flatter are very much less likely.
II. 3 * flou) . . . plavdmi, etc. Hopkins presumably thought these words to be
ultimately related to fly, flutter, &c. The presence of <^Adf and ttAciv in the
same list shows either that Hopkins was unfamiliar with recent philological
work, or that he was exploring beyond it, and guessing at an ultimate
connexion between the two words simply on grounds of meaning and slight
phonetic similarity. The ultimate origin of flute is unknown, but flutter, floWy
TrXetv, float, and the Sanskrit plavdmi are ultimately related on the one hand,
and blow, flare, flamma, (f>X 6 ^,fluere, and possibly flere, on the other.
Hopkins could have found authority for connecting flutter, flow, float, fluere,
andirXetv (for example in Wedgwood), flere ‘probably’ with fluere (White and
Riddle), blow and flare (Ogilvie and Thomson), flute and flare (Ogilvie, &c.).
(That flare here is the Latin word and not the English one is suggested by
Hopkins’s reference below (p. 13) to flare ‘English not Latin’.) I have not
found plavdmi, (fiXo^, or flamma linked elsewhere with the other words, nor
flare with flere or fluere.
II. 4. Flag. In hinting at an etymological connexion between {to) flag and
flaccere Hopkins may possibly be right. The OED suggests that the obsolete
adjective flag was derived from OF flac (whic h comes from T.flaccus), and
that our present-day verb to flag (‘lose vigour’) may possibly be derived from
the adjective. The difficulty with this suggestion, however, is that the adjec-
tive flag appears later than the verb in English, and both appear later than
the noun^fl^ (of truce, &c.). No doubt because of this the Shorter Oxford
Dictionary tentatively suggests that the verb derives from the noun. Thus if
by ‘Hence flag the substantive* Hopkins means that the \crh flag gave rise to
the noun, he is probably (though not certainly) wrong. But he may mean
simply that the noun flag is connected with the verb, in which case he is
probably right.
It was common at the time to suppose flaccere connected with the verb^^ci^*
II, 5, Fledge, Hopkins is right about the meaning o^ fledge and its connexion
with fly, though fledge is not, of course, connected with fled (see note
above, p. 510).
The connexion of fledge with fly was well known at the time.
la. I. With fillip, flip cf. flap,flob. It is not clear whether Hopkins is thinking
of an etymological or simply a sense connexion (and perhaps contrast) here.
Probably he was chiefly noting the connexion in meaning, but considering
also the possibility of etymological connexion. The words are, in fact,
probably related. Flob, ‘move heavily or clumsily’, is first recorded in i860,
and the OED is no doubt right in considering it an onomatopoeic variant of
the verb flop, the change of consonant indicating softer movement and a
heavier sound. Now the OED considersflop to be an onomatopoeic variant of
flap, and the same may well be true of flip also, though the O-ED does not
suggest this. The change of vowel in this case would indicate a lighter bl^
and a higher-pitched sound : compare sense 2 of flap in the OED : ‘To strike
with something flexible and broad’ with sense 6 of flip : ‘To strike smartly and
lightly (with a whip, or the like); to flick.’ We can in fact compare the
5*2
APPENDIX III
connexion between flip and Jiap with that between flick and flack The diffi-
culty is that flip appears later in English than flllipy which suggests the
possibility that flip is merely a later form of fillip.
Richardson assumed flip and fillip to be originally the same word.
12. 2. Cf.the connection . . .flapyflop. By ‘connection’ here Hopkins probably
refers partly to sense connexion, and partly perhaps to a special kind of
etymological relationship. He has remarked on p. 1 1 that ‘It would seem
HaaX fillip generally pronounced flip is a variation of flick\ This suggests that
he may also have considered flabby a ‘variation’ of flagy and flap, flop ‘varia-
tions* of flog. If this was his meaning, he is probably wrong over flag and
flabby, but quite possibly right over the others: it is often difficulMo interpret
the phonology of words of probably imitative origin. But Hopkins also, no
doubt, intended us to notice a phonological similarity betweenUhe word-
groups other than the initial fi- common to all the words. This is that, in
the three groups of words he compares, the keywords have a bapk plosive
consonant (g or k), where their partners have a front plosive consonant
(A or />). It is possible that Hopkins considered the latter to indicate less
vigorous movement or condition by virtue of their different consonant, in
the same way as flick, fleck, and flake were distinguished by the change of
vowel.
As for the sense connexions, these are clear in the case of flick and flip,
and flag (presumably the verb) and flabby, but seem less clear with regard
to flog and flap, flop. It is worth noting, however, that was in use in the
igth century meaning ‘to strike’ (particularly in the sense of swatting
flies), and flop could then mean ‘to throw suddenly*.
The close connexion between flap and flop was well known at the time,
and Thomson implies a connexion between flag and flabby.
12 . 3. hemshaw . . . shelter, shield. I have not been able to discover where
Hopkins heard or read that hemshaw could mean ‘sham heron’. It appears
that the word has never had this meaning, and indeed the concept of a
‘sham heron’ is a curious one. It appears also that hemshaw has never been
used to mean ‘heronry’, although this sense has appeared in dictionaries
since Gotgrave (161 1), who, like Hopkins, thought the meant ‘wood*.
The word actually derives, in its various forms, from OF heronceau, which
meant ‘litde or young heron’, and this, together with the more usual
English sense ‘heron’, has been the meaning in English.
It is difficult to see what words Hopkins had in mind when remarking
that *shaw is sometimes added to words in sense of sham*. Only a very few
words in the language end in -show, and of these kickshaw alone seems even
remotely relevant. (It seems scarcely possible that Hopkins was thinking of
place or personal names.)
As for compound words with shaw~ as the first element, these appear to
have been even more rare, and again only one seems relevant. This is
sham-fowl, meaning ‘an imitation bird for shooting at’, or ‘scarecrow’, and
certainly looks like the sort of word Hopkins had in mind. The OED,
however, describes this word as obsolete and rare, and does not record
it later than the 17th century. But the word appears in some contem-
PHILOLOGICAL NOTES
5*3
porary dictionaries, including Ogilvie, and it may have been in one of
these that Hopkins had seen it. The shaw- in shaw-fowl is of doubtful
origin and is probably not related to the word shaw meaning ‘grove*. Nor
is shaw itself likely to be related to the etymologically obscure sham, as
Hopkins suggests; it did not, in Old English, mean ‘shade of trees’, but
only ‘wood’ or ‘grove’, and it is unrelated to shadow, &c.
Shadow, shade, and shed are interrelated on the one hand, and shelter is
possibly related to shield on the other. So much was commonly accepted
at the time.
It is interesting that Hopkins’s most notable mistakes here can be found
in Thomson, from whom we gather that related to sky are ‘Shaw, Shade,
Sham, . . . Shed, Shelter, Shield . . and under shadow we find ‘from
shade’.
12. 4. school. If Hopkins meant school, ‘place of instruction’, then he was
mistaken : the view he doubted is the correct one. School in school of whales
is a borrowing of MDu. school ‘assemblage*, and almost certainly cognate
with shoal, though not with school ‘place of instruction’. Shell, the name of a
form in a school, is a special sense of the word shell (as in shell-fish &c.), and
is indeed probably related to shoal, though not in the way that Hopkins
seems to have thought : it did not originally mean ‘assemblage’ or anything
similar, but was so called from the shape of the apsidal end of the school-
room at Westminster School. For these words see further p. 25, and
p. 521 below.
12. 5. Skim , . . surface of a thing. Hopkins presumably thought these words
were related to each other. Skim and scum were commonly assumed to be
related at the time, and probably are. L. squama, ‘scale’, is of obscure
origin, but is probably not related to scale. Scale is unrelated to skim or scum.
As for keel, the only word that bears a sense suitable for this list is the
verb keel in the transitive sense of ‘skim’ ; but that this is Hopkins’s word
is supported by an entry on p. 25, in which he links keel with scale, &c.,
where keel is probably the verb ‘to skim’ (see his note on this word on
p. 31). Skeel is difficult. It seems at first sight that skeel is perhaps the
19th-century spelling-variant of the noun scale meaning ‘fish-scale’ (&c.),
but it is unlikely that Hopkins, in writing *keel, i.e. skeel’, could have been
referring to a verb in the one case and a noun in the other. There is a
dialectal verb skeel with a sense ‘to shell’ (peas, beans, &c.) ; and though
the EDD describes this sense as obsolete, it is recorded in Halliwell’s
Dictionary of Archaic and Provincial Words (first published in 1847), where it is
possible that Hopkins had seen it. Hopkins was certainly capable of seeing
a sense connexion between ‘to skim’ and ‘to shell’. However, it is not easy to
see why, in this case, he did not simply add skeel to his list in the ordinary
way: words as divergent in sense are after all not uncommon in the other
lists. The most likely explanation of skeel is that Hopkins is assuming it to
have been an earlier form of keel, in the same way as he later assumes mlik
to have been an earlier form of milk. See p. 13, where in ^milk, i.e. mlik\ the
‘i.e.* must be interpreted in this way. And though keel, ‘to skim*, is not
related to any of the other words, it was well known that some A:-words are
M m
B 6028
514
APPENDIX III
related to words with initial sk-: cf. Hopkins’s inclusion of koIXos and skull
in the same list in the next entry.
12 . 6. Hollow . . . Hell. Of the words in this list, hollowy hole, and hold (if this
means, as probably, ‘hold of a ship’) are related : hell and hull are probably
not related to these, though probably related to each other. Unrelated to
any of these words are kolXos, skull, K€<j>aX'j, and caput, all of which belong
to different roots.
It was well known at the time that hollow was related to hole, and Todd,
for example, would have added to these hold, hell, and hull] Ogilvie and
others kolXos. Thomson links skull with hull, ‘husk’, but not with Aw// (of a
ship). Both Andrews and White and Riddle connect caput witn
12. 7. caelum . . . kolv^. Hopkins is mistaken here. Caelum and coma do not
derive from, nor are they related to, kolXov and kolv/j respectively. Liddell
and Scott give caelum as related to kolXos: but see note on p. 52 1 below.
12. 8. Skip, escape. These words are not connected etymologically. Cf.
Todd, however, who quotes Johnson’s note (under skip) : ‘I know not
whether it may not come, as a diminutive, from scape.' It is possible of
course that Hopkins was not implying etymological but sense connexion.
12. 9. Hale . . . haul. These words arc closely related, as was well known
at the time.
Hold (presumably the verb) and hilt are not related. Halt (‘lame’) is not
related to hold, but is to hilt. For the view that the three words are connected,
see, for example, Ogilvie. The suggestion about halt indicates that it was at
least in part an etymological connexion that Hopkins wished to point to
between hold and hilt: hence also, no doubt, between heal and hale (whose
close relationship was well known), and between skip and escape, hale and
haul above.
12. 10. Shear . . . curtailed. Cf. R. G. Trench, On the Study of Words:
‘We might take whole groups of words, which seem to us at first sight
to acknowledge hardly any kinship, if indeed any, with one another, and
yet with no great difficulty show that they had a common parentage and
descent. For instance, here are “shire”, “shore”, “share”, “shears”;
“shred”, “sherd”; they all are derived from one Anglo-Saxon word,
which signifies to separate or divide, and still exists with us in the shape
of “to sheer”, which made once the three perfects, “shore”, “share”,
“shered”. “Shire” is a district in England, as it is separated from the rest;
a “share” is a portion of any thing thus-divided off; “shears” are instru-
ments effecting this process of separation; the “shore” is the place where
the continuity of the land is interrupted or separated by the sea; a
“shred” is that which is “shered” or shorn from the main piece; a
“sherd”, as a pot-“sherd”, , . . that which is broken off and thus divided
from the vessel . . .’ (loth edn, 1861; pp. 224-5).
Trench’s book was of course well known at the time ; and it is interesting to
note here not only similarities between some of these explanations and
those Hopkins gives, but also a general similarity in style between this
passage and similar passages in Hopkins.
PHILOLOGICAL NOTES
515
Etymologically related are probably share ^ shear y shred {shrad)y shardy
•sherdy and short* The origin of shore is obscure, but the word may possibly
be related to this group. Unrelated to this group, and not related to each
other, are shire and shower.
As for the words not mentioned by Trench, Hopkins’s suggestions with
regard to shower and short are similar to Horne Tooke’s quoted by Richard-
son and Todd.
13. I. In Attic . . . birds fly. These Attic and Doric phrases, as well as the
references to Xiiyr) and vuf, are taken from Liddell and Scott under A,
TTvevfia is not in fact ‘for’ TrAeu/xa : it appears that ttAcJ/xcov was an earlier
form of TTpevjbLcoVy ‘lung’, the ttA- having been altered to ttv- because of a
supposed connexion with the unrelated TTvedfiay ‘breath’, and Trvdwy
‘breathe’, ttvcu/xu is not connected with TrXeLv. (For nXelvyflarey bloWy see
earlier.) Pluma is possibly connected with flyy but may stem from a differ-
ent root.
13. 2. Flos Latin). Hopkins is right here: all these five words are
ultimately related. Hopkins is essentially right about the ‘original mean-
ing’ also: the immediate root from which these words sprang appears to
have been an offshoot of a root meaning ‘to swell’.
The relationship between flos and flowery and between bloWy bloomy and
blossom was well known.
^Xioi is probably distantly connected with flos, &c., but flaw, ‘storm’, is
not. The English word flare is obscure etymologically, but is not likely to be
related to (fiXio) or flos,
Liddell and Scott give ^Acw and flos as ‘nearly akin’ ; Ogilvie considers
that flare and floreo ‘may be’ connected.
13. 3. FaXa. , , . mlik. FdXa &c., and L. lac are related, but English milk is
probably not to be connected with these words. By ‘i.e. mlik* Hopkins
presumably means that mlik is to be considered an earlier form of milk,
establishing as it does a closer link with yoAa/cro?, yAayo?, and lac by pro-
viding for a sequence / plus vowel plus k or g, Legliny a Scottish word,
appears here partly, no doubt, because it contains the same sequence. Its
etymology is obscure but it is most unlikely to be related to the other words.
Liddell and Scott remark under JaAa that ‘ yaAa, yd-Aa/c-ro? is the same
word as Lat. lac; see also the form y-Ady-o?: — akin also to d-fiiXy-o), muh
gere, milk'. Gf. also Donaldson, who gives d-fJbdXyo) as equivalent to
d-/xAdy-a> {The New CratyluSy 2nd edn (1850), p. 364).
13. 4. Navs . . . newt{?). Of these words, no and vlw appear to belong to a
different root from the rest, vaus and navis are related to Skt. nau-s. Liddell
and Scott (1861) connect nans and navis with vafi?, and no with veto: in 1855
only there is the suggestion that vavs derives from vco).
Newt is not connected with any of these words. Johnson had already
quoted Skinner’s (essentially correct) view that newt is ‘contracted from
an evet'y and this was the usual view in the 19th century.
*3* 5- Than . . . nar, Hopkins is right in claiming the original identity of
than and then, and his illustration represents a tenable, though not perhaps
APPENDIX III
516
the most likely, theory of how they came to be differentiated in use. The
view accepted here by Hopkins was the usual one at the time: see for
instance R. G. Latham’s A Hand-book of the English Language^ 4th edn
(i860), p. 431.
The now dialectal use of nor to mean ‘than* in such cases as ‘better nor
that’ is of obscure origin, but it is unlikely that Hopkins’s derivation is
correct. For one thing, not only does a word na meaning ‘than’ make its
appearance a little earlier than nor and nar in this sense, but one of the
earliest instances of this use of na is one where na is immediately followed
by a word beginning with a vowel. Now, although written documents may
be an unreliable guide in this matter, this is not the situation we should
expect if -r forms of the word were the original ones. It loola, in fact, as
if na was the earlier form, and this was altered later to nor And nary be-
cause of the probable identity in pronunciation of na and n^ when un-
emphatic before words beginning with a consonant. Na may th^n in origin
be the word na ‘not’, or possibly a word deriving from the reduced *« from
than itself (though this ’n is also recorded slightly later than this use of na) .
15. I . Dhu . . . flow, go. Hopkins is essentially right about dhu, though the
forms vary, of course, in the different Celtic languages. Dun was an old
name for the Lincolnshire Old Don river, whose course lies partly along the
Lines .“Yorks, border. This Don is not connected with dhu. The dou- of
Douglas was certainly the same word originally as dhu, and so was Dove; but
the word meant ‘black* (as Hopkins says) and not ‘blue’.
Donuil Dhu: cf. Sir Walter Scott’s poem. Pibroch of Donuil Dhu.
Hopkins’s guess that -glas might mean ‘blue* is possibly correct. Welsh
glas, for instance, means ‘blue’, and some scholars believe that this word
forms the second element of Dou-glas, the whole name thus meaning ‘dark
blue’. If this view is correct, then -glas is certainly connected with L.
glastum. (Hopkins’s perception of the possible relationship is in any case
acute.) His suggestion that L. glastum was taken from the native word for
woad is almost certainly correct, except that by ‘native’ Hopkins probably
meant ‘British’, whereas the word appears to have been adopted from
Gaulish. The elder Pliny says that the plant in question was called glastum
by the Gauls.
But an alternative theory about the -glas in Douglas holds that it means
‘stream’ and is cognate with OI glaiss, ‘river’. This would seem to offer
a better explanation of the river-name. In any case OI glaiss is probably
related to Welsh glas, ‘blue’, and thus probably to glastum.
The etymology of the river-name Humber is very obscure, but the word is
probably British in origin. For an indication of the complexity of the prob-
lem, see Ekwall’s English River-Names, pp. 203-5.
In connexion with Hopkins’s assumption, it may be worth noting Isaac
Taylor’s Words and Places (1864) : on p. 258 Taylor mentions that Humber
‘has been thought’ to contain a corruption of the root aber, which he says is
‘Cymric’ in contrast to Erse and Gaelic inver.
Wharfe and rough are not ‘identical’, nor even related. Wharfe probably
derives from a British river-name meaning ‘winding river’, whereas rough
comes from OE ruh. 1 have not found any evidence of a spelling hrough for
PHILOLOGICAL NOTES 517
roughy though other Ar- spellings of the word are to be found, due to the
influence on OE ruh of OE hnoh, which also meant ‘rough*. Probably by
hrough Hopkins meant loosely the hr- spellings in general: cf., for example,
‘Sax. hreogy hreohy hrug, reohy rug, ruh, href y hreof* under rough in Ogilvie.
DuUy duskyy and dull are not ‘from’ dhu, but dun and dusky are certainly
‘connected* with it, and come from different extensions of the root from
which dhu stems. Probably dull also is from another extension of the
same root. Tawny y on the other hand, can hardly be connected, since it was
borrowed from Anglo-French iauney ‘tanned’, which appears to be of Celtic
origin (cf. Bret, tanuy ‘oak’). If tawny is connected with Bret. tanUy both sense
and form are against a connexion with dhu.
Thomson connects the adjective dun with dusk, and connects dusk with
‘W. and I. duy black’, but does not link either dull or tawny with these
words. Ogilvie, however, gives the etymology of dun as ‘Sax. dunn\ W.
dwn\ Ir. donn'y qu. tan, tawny . . .’ (where qu. means ‘query’).
(With regard to this list of rivers in the Cornhill, it may be worth noting
that there does not seem to be a river Eden or a Douglas in Yorkshire:
there is an Eden which flows through Cumberland and Westmorland, and
an Eden Burn in Co. Durham ; the Douglas is a Lancashire river) .
The origin of Ribble is obscure. No entirely convincing suggestion seems
to have been made as to its derivation, and it is not even clear whether the
word was originally British or English. If derived from an unrecorded OE
adjective *ripel, ‘tearing’, as Ekwa 11 suggests (in The Concise Oxford Dictionary
of English Place- ffarnes) y then it is not connected with revely nor, probably
with rave either, though the origin of rave is also uncertain. It is not likely,
however, that rave and revel are related (although assumed to be so by
Ogilvie).
The first elements of the names Gwendolen and Guinevere certainly meant
‘white’ or ‘fair’, though in Gwendolen the -d- probably belonged to the
second element of the word, and Hopkins ought therefore to have written
Guen here, not Guend.
As for Wenty there is a river of this name in Yorkshire (probably not
etymologically related to Guin-y &c.), but possibly Hopkins was referring
to the -went of Derwent. The relevance of the sentence beginning ^Went
Guend . . .’is difficult to see unless the first word in it refers to one of the
rivers in the Cornhill list, and as this list gives Derwent as meaning ‘fair water’,
Hopkins would probably assume the -went to mean ‘fair’. As it happens,
Derwent does not appear to have meant ‘fair water’, but probably ‘oak river’,
the Derw- deriving from a British word meaning ‘oak’ and the -ent from a
British suffix.
Arar here is presumably the name used by the Romans for what is now the
river Saone; Ri the Sanskrit verb ri meaning ‘let go, release* &c. : but the
word Arar is probably not related to it and appears to have meant not ‘flow-
flow,* but ‘the slow’ or ‘the placid’, and to have been a Celtic word (or an
adaptation of one) containing the same root as the Welsh araf ‘slow,
placid’. (It is perhaps worth recalling that Caesar described the Arar as
flowing into the Rh6ne ‘incredibili lenitate’.) Understandably, Hopkins
assumed that the second -ar in Arar was a repetition of the stem, whereas it
5i8
APPENDIX III
is probably only a suflSx. Hopkins’s assumption that Aire contained the
same root as Arar is also probably incorrect, though the etymology Aire is
very obscure.
As for Gmg‘gung, Hopkins is more nearly right, though the name for
the Ganges in India is Ganga and not Gung-gung, (The discrepancy is not as
great as it looks, since the two us and the two as no doubt represent the
same sounds.) As for the meaning of the word, Hopkins is probably right:
Ganga does seem to have been formed by the repetition of a Sanskrit stem
meaning ‘go’, and the whole word thus seems to have meant ‘the swift
goer’. (For further details see A. A. Macdonell’s Sanskrit Dictionary under
gdn-gd,) I
In connexion with Arar and Hopkins’s Gung-gung, it is intereaing that in
a footnote on p. 239 of his Lectures on the Science of Language (1861) Max
Muller wrote that the root ‘AR might be traced back to the Sanskrit root, ri,
to go’. And on p. 362 he remarked that ‘The Ganges is the Sanskrit Ganga,
literally the Go-go’. Although Ganga is not Gung-gung, it might be ^hat Hop-
kins was misremembering Max Muller: his etymology of Arar could cer-
tainly have been based on Max Miillcr’s note.
15. 2. Duffer . . . Clay. I can find no corroboration of the first of these
statements, and no other evidence that duffer (of doubtful etymology) has
ever been used to mean ‘ass’, the animal.
There have been several explanations offered for the derivation of lazy.
If Skeat was right in suggesting a connexion with Middle Low .German
lasichy then lazy is probably ultimately related to L. lassus; but the earliest
forms of lazy (with -ay-) tend to argue against this derivation.
On the same page of the Cornhill as the list of rivers, it is stated that in
Yorkshire ‘clarty is sticky’. The etymology of clarty is unknown, but a
connexion with clay is by no means impossible : and if there is a connexion,
the sense-link would probably be as Hopkins suggests.
15. 3. Hawk. Hopkins is mistaken here. The verb hawk, ‘sell about the
streets’, seems to have been a back-formation from the noun hawker, which
the OED considers as apparently a borrowing of Middle Low German hoker,
‘a hawker’. The verb hawk, ‘make a noise in the throat’, appears to be of
onomatopoeic origin and unconnected with the previous verb. As for
Kingsley’s use of hawk, the OED has no record of such a meaning as
Hopkins gives, but the sense in question is probably ‘to hunt on the wing’,
used of birds and insects. A quotation from the OED illustrating this use and
dated 1879 tells of ‘A dragon fly, hawking to and fro on the sunny side of the
hedge’. It would be easy to take hawking here to mean ‘moving up and
down in one place’. Possibly the instance in Kingsley was similar.
howk. There seems to be no clear evidence of a sense ‘to harry’ for the
verb howk, but if we had the relevant reference in Kingsley we might well
find that ‘harry’ was only a contextual meaning of a common sense of
howk. Apparently a dialectal word in the 19th century, howk most com-
monly meant ‘dig up, excavate’ (both literally and metaphorically). The
EDD records a sense ‘punish’ for howk, though only from Cumberland:
perhaps some such sense was current farther south in Kingsley’s day. If
PHILOLOGICAL NOTES
5*9
Kingsley’s word is ultimately the same as howk, ‘dig up’, it is unrelated to
hawki the bird.
i6. I . gaily. Hopkins is right here : gaUy and gallow are different forms of the
same word. The EDD records gaily or gallow from a wide area, including
the Isle of Wight. Gallow occurs in King Lear^ iii. ii. 44, and this seems to be
its first recorded appearance in English, though it is connected with, if not
actually derived from, OE agaslwan^ ‘astonish, frighten’.
16. 2. Spmre . . . muck. Related etymologically in this list are spuere, spit, and
spittle^ and probably related to these are spot and sputter. English spume was
borrowed and adapted from L. spuma^ which appears to be unconnected with
spuere &c. The verb spoom meant ‘to run before the wind or sea, to scud’, and
is probably in origin an alteration of a verb spoon of the same meaning and
of unknown etymology. (Ogil vie considered the verb spoom to be ‘probably a
mistake for spoon’.) Hopkins may have been thinking, however, of spoorning.
‘foaming’, though the OED only records this sense for the present participle
used adjectivally and not, for instance, for the infinitive spoom. The sense
‘foaming’ of spooming is first recorded in Keats, who uses far-spooming as an
adjective in Endymion^ iii. 70, and who seems to have coined the word by
h\Gndin% spooming y ‘scudding’, With, spuming^ ‘foaming’. Richardson thought
spume and spoom were the same word.
Spawn is not related to any of these words; nor, apparently, is spatter y
though its partial similarity in meaning and form to spit, spattle, ‘to spit’,
&c., would seem to have resulted in its being influenced in sense by them.
But it is at least possible that English spatter is, contrary to the accepted
view, related to spit, sputter, &c., after all. It was certainly quite natural for
Hopkins to have assumed a connexion.
That spit, spittle, spatter, spot, and sputter were related was commonly
held at the time, and Richardson, for instance, also connects spit with spew,
and spew, spume, spuma, and spoom with spuere. With spew Thomson connects
spawn.
As Ogilvie supposed, mucus and muck are probably related. It is possible
that spit, spittle, &c., in the previous note brought the word mucus to
Hopkins’s mind and so prompted the note here. In the same way howk, ‘to
harry’, may have reminded him of gaily, ‘to harry’, and the note on slang
below may have been prompted by his reflections on duffer above and the
colloquial and slang uses of muck here. Similar possibilities suggest them-
selves elsewhere in the note-books, though there is no reason, of course, why
any note should necessarily have been suggested by another.
16. 3. chouse. In the mid-igth century chouse was used both as a verb and a
noun meaning ‘trick, swindle’. It would be helpful to know what Hopkins
thought its etymology to be. Gifford, in his edition ofBen Jonson (i8i6),
has an explanation of how the word (which is an adaptation of Turkish
chaush) came to acquire the above sense. He tells how, in i6og. Sir Robert
Shirley sent a Turkish messenger or chiaus to this country who ^chiaused the
Turkish and Persian merchants here of 4000/.’ and made off. Hopkins
might well have known of this story, since Gifford’s edition of Jonson was
still the most recent comprehensive one, and the same account had also
520
APPENDIX III
appeared in Richardson and Wedgwood. Not all contemporary dictiona-
ries, however, mention this derivation: see, for instance, Ogilvie. In
Hopkins’s note, ‘words like chouse' might mean ‘words apparently borrowed
from other languages* or simply ‘words neither used metaphorically nor
of provincial origin’, or ‘words of very unusual history’. In view of the
context the last seems more likely, since ‘indeed* suggests the recollection
of striking exceptions to the general rule.
Gifford’s story, though essentially correct etymologically, appears to be
incorrect historically: for instance. Sir Robert Shirley seems not to have
been involved, and the date was 1607, not 1609. But for fur^fher details
see Herford and Simpson’s Ben Jonson^ x. 61.
25. I. Wade . . . mingle etc. That wade^ waddle^ vadere, and fadum are
etymologically related was known at the time. Ogilvie observes chat waddle
‘seems to be a diminutive formed on the root of wade^ L. vado, to go . .
wade : waddle . . . . Hopkins is right in assuming each pair of words here to
be connected in essentially the same way. The ~le represents an addition to
the verb-stem (or variation of the stem), which originally gave it a fre-
quentative or diminutive meaning. Thomson gives straddle and swaddle as
diminutives of stride and swathe respectively, and the etymological connexion
between these pairs was well known. Ming^ ‘to mix’, was current in literary
English till the 1 7th century, and still survived in dialect.
25, 2. Renew. The etymologies of renew are probably Hopkins’s own con-
jectures, but he could have got them from Ogilvie, who gives the deriva-
tion as ‘L. renovo\ re and novo^ or re and new.'
Renew cannot strictly be ‘from’ renovare^ but Hopkins was no doubt using
‘from’ in a more general sense. The OED suggests that renew was formed
from re- and the adjective new under the influence of L. renovare. But it
seems more likely that, as Hopkins supposed, the verb new was the basis for
renew, which was thus probably coined from the verb new under the in-
fluence of re-novare.
25. 3. Scoff. Liddell and Scott, under aKwirroj, have ‘Cf. our scoff'. The two
words may be related, though the etymology of scoff is uncertain.
25. 4. Gulf ...(... and beans). Though the derivation of golf is very
obscure, Hopkins’s suggestion is most unlikely to be correct. He is, however,
nearly right about gulf which comes from a root meaning, probably, ‘to
vault, arch.’ Gulp is of onomatopoeic origin and looks rather out of place
here, especially as Hopkins is usually quick to detect onomatopoeia in
words. Gula, also, is from a root probably echoic in origin, but there is no
clear evidence of a connexion with gulp. None of these words is connected
with any of those following, all of which (except for caelare and the shell which
is not the name of a form) Hopkins has already mentioned in this note-book.
(See particularly p. 12 and the relevant notes.)
W^gwood connects gulf with gulp; and thzXgulp might be connected with
gula could be gathered from Richardson. A connexion between gulp and
gala is implicit in Thomson.
For KoiXog and kolXov Hopkins presumably meant koTXos and koIXov:
he has the accents correct on p. 12. The inclusion of hilt here is rather
PHILOLOGICAL NOTES 58!
curious, even though it has already been linked with hold. No doubt the
two words were closely connected in Hopkins’s mind. Neither is connected
with any other word in this group.
Caelare appears here partly, no doubt, because of its apparent (not real)
identity of stem with that of caelutn^ and partly because Hopkins saw a
sense connexion between it and hollow &c. But although caelare meant ‘to
make grooves in’, it did not mean ‘to make hollow’. Hopkins is not likely
to have been mistaken about the recorded meanings of caelare \ the mere
fact that he puts ‘to make hollow’ first suggests that he was thinking of it
as an original, if unrecorded meaning.
As for caelum (clearly ‘heaven* here as earlier), the ‘same’ presumably
means ‘same as caelare\ i.e. ‘belongs to the same root as caelare\ On p. 12
Hopkins had thought caelum to be ‘from’ kolXov: here he is aware that this
view is incorrect. It is possible that after writing his earlier note he con-
sulted the most recent edition of Liddell and Scott. Under /cotAoy in the
1855 cdn we find ‘Germ, hohl, our hollow \ whence Lat. coelum, though oft.
written caelum . . .* : ‘whence’ might be taken here to imply that coelum was
borrowed directly from the Greek word. In the 1861 edn, however, this
note has been removed : instead, under Kviw^ we find simply a list of re-
lated words, among which are caelum and koiXos,
Shell is probably related to skully but not to the other words.
25. 5. skill. . . keely etc. For shell (in as chool), school, shoal, and scale see
earlier (p. 12), and the notes on those entries.
The skill Hopkins refers to here seems to be the verb skill: he is quite
right about its original meaning. Richardson mentions the verb as well as
the noun and gives as its meaning ‘To distinguish, to discriminate’, &c. :
similarly Thomson and also Ogilvie, who marks the verb as obsolete. Shell is
related to skill, but again Hopkins had the wrong reason for thinking so.
(See the earlier note on this sense of shell.) It is worth noting that Hopkins
has changed his mind about the original meaning of this word and of school
and shoal. Before, he had assumed that they originally meant ‘assemblage’ :
here all three words are still assumed to be connected, but this time derived
from a root meaning ‘divide, discriminate’. In view of ‘they say’, it is
reasonable to suppose that, at some time after writing his earlier note,
Hopkins had either looked up the etymologies of school and shoal (and pos-
sibly shell), or otherwise come across some new information about them. It
may also be significant that scale, which on p. 12 was not connected with
shoal, &c., is so connected (and correctly) here. All these new etymologies
are in fact correct except for school (of boys), where Hopkins is well aware of
the usual (and correct) derivation from schola, but continues, apparently,
to reject it. But the entry here must be considered not only in relation
to the entry on p. 12, but also to that on p. 31 below: see the note
there.
Shilling is related to skill, &c., and this is implicit in Richardson and
Thomson. That keel here is probably the verb keel meaning ‘to skim’ is
suggested by Hopkins’s reference to this sense of the word on p. 31.
(See the note on keel on p. 522 below). Aeel, ‘to skim’, is not related to
skill, &c.
522 APPENDIX III
25. 6. of course, *Of course’ might suggest common knowledge, but I have
not been able to discover any support for this view, which is incorrect.
More likely, Hopkins may have meant that the connexion of skill with
scindere was obvious — to himself, of course, not necessarily to us. In any
case, the sense connexion is clear enough. is certainly related to
scindere, and the relationship was well known at the time : Liddell and Scott,
for instance, list scindo, among other words, as ‘akin’ to
31. I. Skill etc. Gf. above, p. 25. Hopkins is not likely to have made this
third reference to the same group of words merely to add further words to
it, since much of the note is a repetition of the previous one, ajnd there are
slight but interesting changes. In the first place, Hopkins had tentatively
noted there, ^skill, originally I believe to divide, discriminate’: here he is
more definite, remarking of skill, &c., ‘Primary meaning, to divide, cut
apart’. Secondly, if ‘as applied to fishes’ refers to school as well as Vo shoal (as
seems likely), Hopkins has at last (and correctly) dropped school (of boys)
from his list. Thirdly, he has omitted the qualifying ‘they say’ before the
etymologies of school, shoal, &c. ; and, lastly, scale has been left out of the list.
The reason for these changes is not altogether clear, though it looks
likely, with regard to skill at least, that Plopkins had consulted some
authority. (In the case of school (of boys) he may simply have come to the
conclusion, on further reflection, that the usual view was after all correct.
It is possible too, though less likely, that he omitted ‘they say’, uninfluenced
by any new authority.) The omission of scale is very difficult to explain if
deliberate, but it probably has no significance.
It is possible, then, that the differences between this passage and the
previous one (p. 25), and between that and the passage on p. 12, are due at
least in part to some authority whom Hopkins had consulted or come across.
But it is not easy to see who this could have been. A possible source is
Richardson, who favoured the view that skill, shilling, shoal, and scale
were interconnected and bore originally the sense of ‘divide’ or ‘division’.
Most of the new information on p. 25 could have been derived directly
or indirectly from him, and so could the changes here (except for the
dropping of scale). However, Hopkins’s etymologies shell, keel (of a ship),
and skull do not agree with his; and as the noun keel seems to make its first
appearance here, there must remain some doubt as to whether Hopkins
was in fact using Richardson at this point.
To the verb skill Hopkins correctly adds the noun. A ship’s keel, though
ingeniously linked here to skill, is not connected with it or with keel, ‘to
skim’. (The fact that the verb keel is placed before the noun here suggests
that the noun is the new-comer.) Skull, ‘scull’, is another new-comer to the
group. Its etymology is obscure, but it is not likely to be related to skill
or to have anything to do with skimming. For shell, shilling, school, and
shoal see above.
32. I . Shell of a snail . . . only. Hopkins is wrong here. I have not been able to
discover where he could have found this information, though Thomson
connects shell and scull (i.e. skull). Shell (of a snail &c.) is ultimately the same
word as shell (in a school) and is related to skill. Skull (of the head) , though
PHILOLOGICAL NOTES 523
its etymology is not altogether clear, is probably related to shell and so also
to skill,
36. I . cf. Bug-bear , . . hug. From a list of cognate words in Liddell and Scott
(see the following note), Hopkins notes the Slavonic bugti as being possibly
connected with some English words of similar meaning and similar-looking
stem. These words are not in Liddell and Scott and appear to represent
Hopkins’s own idea: if this is so, his acquaintance with the northern
dialectal boggle is interesting. The four English words are all probably
related to each other, though their derivation is not clear. They may be
related to or derived from Welsh bwg, ‘ghost’, and if so they are not
related to bugti. If they are unrelated to hwg, a distant connexion with
bugti is not impossible.
36, 2. ^evycLv , , ,fugio. Hopkins must have taken this list from the 1861
edn of Liddell and Scott, since the note in 1855 (under OEY'FQ) is
different and docs not, for example, refer to bugti, bega, or biuga. The cog-
nate words and their meanings have been carefully noted by Hopkins, and
in the same order, except that he has left fugio (which appears before
biuga in Liddell and Scott) to the end of the list.
36. 3. budge. Budge is an adaptation of Fr. bouger, which probably derives
from a late L. hullicare*, ‘to bubble’, so that a connexion with /w^to, &c., is
hardly possible. Hopkins may have taken the idea from Liddell and Scott
(1855), which under <f)€vyoj remarks that ‘The Root is strictly as
in aor. <f)vy€LV, <f>vyri, (f>viL 9 , Lat. fuga, fugio: perh. akin to Sanscr. bhuj
inflectere, our budge . . . The only difficulty is a doubt as to whether
Hopkins would have said ‘They might have added our budge . . .’, when he
is likely to have realized the superiority of the etymologies in the 1861
edn of Liddell and Scott (where there is no reference to budge) over those
of previous edns. Perhaps he had forgotten where he had seen the sug-
gestion. Alternatively, he may have got the idea from White and Riddle,
who under fugio include budge and ‘Sanscr. bhug’ as related words. But it
is by no means impossible that the idea was Hopkins’s own.
36. 4. And perhaps goblin ,., no certainty. This is an ingenious idea, but not
likely to be correct even if we overlook the fact that goblin is an adaptation
of the Fr. gobelin (as was well known at the time). The origin of the French
word is doubtful, but a Fr. boguelin* (for which there is no evidence) would
be unlikely to be connected with fugio, &c.
44* I. quantity . , , varies. Hopkins is thinking of the group as a whole.
liqueo is in fact found only with a short first syllable, while the first syllable
of liquidus, though usually short, is sometimes long, as in the line from
Lucretius. Again, the first syllabic of liquitur is apparently always long.
It is interesting to note that both Andrews and White and Riddle quote
(under liquidus) the line from Lucretius, pointing out that the first syllable
of the word is there used first as a short, then as a long syllable. Both, how-
ever, read (correctly) conveniant.
44 * 2. Liquidus is same as limpidus. It looks as if ‘is same as here may imply
more than etymological connexion, and mean ‘is another form of the word .
534
APPENDIX III
Because of its form, rarity, and late appearance in L., limpidus presents a
considerable etymological problem. There are serious difficulties in assum-
ing any connexion with liquidus, though such a connexion is not impossible.
Hopkins may have derived the idea from Andrews, who states that limpidus
is ‘another form for liquidus’.
44. 3. Now linquo . . . Xetnoj. Both Andrews and White and Riddle imply that
linquo is from AetTrai, and not merely cognate with it. The words are certainly
quite closely related, though they do not represent an exact parallel, since
-H- has been introduced into the stem of linquo but not, apparently, into
that of XcIttcj. (There is no evidence in support of a form XelaTTw.)
It is difficult to know if there is any significance in the difference between
‘certainly same’ and simply ‘same’. This might indicate a slight doubt in
the latter case, but more probably Hopkins means simply to emphasize
the certainty of the other statement. \
44. 4. We may conclude . . . limpidus. This is a shrewd and ingenious sug-
gestion, but there is no evidence for a and it is not likely that such
a form ever existed. (It is in any case not clear that linquo is related to
liquidus.) The comparisons from English, particularly the first, show again
Hopkins’s philological gift: dank and damp are similar in sense, have the
same -wA:, -mp variation as in linq- and limp-, and are in fact probably
related (as Hopkins could have gathered from Thomson) . The parallel of
hunk and hump is not quite so good, but, despite their sense-difference, these
words also (both of obscure origin) may well be related.
46. 1. Sk and sc ... a disc. Hopkins is largely right here : bushy and bosky arc
closely related (as could be gathered from Ogilvie). The history of rush (the
plant) is not altogether clear, but a connexion with Med. L. ruscus, ‘butcher’s
broom’, is not likely. Dish, however, is ultimately derived, through L. discus,
from hlcTKos. Richardson quotes this etymology of dish, and Ogilvie has,
under rush, ‘. . . probably L. ruscus . . .’.
47 * I. Steel . . . stella, aarijp. Steel has no etymological connexion with these
words, and it is interesting that Hopkins should have suggested one when the
sense-difference was so considerable. He might, of course, have been thinking
of the colour of steel or of its glinting quality, but these links would not
normally have been sufficient to suggest such a connexion to him. I have
not been able to discover any possible source for the idea, which appears
to be Hopkins’s own.
Star, Stella, and dar-qp are related to each other, but not to crrlX^eiv. The
idea that a-rlXpcLV might be related was probably Hopkins’s own : Liddell
and Scott (1861) connect star and stella with darqp, but not crrtAjScu. The
meaning of the word, ‘glitter, twinkle’, suggests that this was the sense-link
between steel and star, &c.
47. 2. Stella perhaps for sterila. Sterila seems to be Hopkins’s own invention.
Gurtius had proposed sterula* as an earlier form of stella, and this view seems
to have been widely accepted (for example, by Donaldson and Max Muller
(1864)). Gf. also the more recent proposals, stir (e) la* and stelna*.
47. 3. if not . . . Stella and steel. In this alternative etymology, ‘not that I
PHILOLOGICAL NOTES 525
would insist on the V nxust refer to the in stela. The rest of the sentence is
not easy to follow; probably the words from ‘not that* to the end are an
afterthought, in which Hopkins realized that it is not necessary to assume
an original in stela in order to link the word with steel (and orTiAj 3 €tv) ,
since the I in these words could originally have been an r also. Hopkins may
be right in assuming that the stem of Stella originally contained an -r-, but
he is wrong in suggesting the same thing for and steel.
47. 4. to ease pronunciation . . . estella. With this explanation of the d- of
aGrrip cf. the etymological note on this word in Liddell and Scott (1855) ;
‘The a is euphon., as in darpov, astrunty compared with our star . . . In 1861
the note was revised and expanded ; there is no reference to a ‘euphonic’
d-y and the root is given as ‘ ASTP^ \ This latter agrees with the modern
view, which is that the d- is not in fact ‘euphonic’ but derives from an
initial in one form of the IE root. It is interesting that Hopkins himself
realized that the ‘euphonic’ d- was probably pre-Greek.
He is quite right about the e- in espirance and estella.
47, 5. Twig . . . wicked. This is a particularly interesting, but also difficult
list, and in some cases the connexion between individual words in it and
the rest is not at all clear.
Twigy ‘pinch’, seems to have been dialectal at the time and is recorded
by the EDD for Scotland, Cumberland, Westmorland, and Yorkshire: I
have not found it in any contemporary dictionary. {Twigy ‘to beat’, is a
different word.) The word is of obscure origin: so also is tweaky with which
‘twig* is nevertheless probably connected. Both words are probably con-
nected with twitch. Twity however, is from OE at-wUan and is not related
to twig, &c., as was well known at the time. (The connexion of tweak with
twitch was generally accepted.) Twit may therefore have been included here,
partly because of its spelling-link with twitch, and partly because of a sense-
link with ‘pinch’, ‘tweak’; to ‘twit’ being, perhaps, to ‘pinch’, &c., meta-
phorically.
It is not clear whether Hopkins thought wigging to be etymologically
related to any of the previous words. The link seems to be partly one of
sense (with twit), and partly a slight formal similarity with twig, &c. As for
earwig, we have already seen that Hopkins thought the -wig related to
wigging: hence no doubt its reappearance here. Wicker is related to
ea.T-wig: a remarkable guess, unless suggested by Ogilvie, who considers
wicker and twig to be ‘probably formed on the simple word wig, from the
root of L. vigeoy to grow*. Hopkins’s -wig, however, was connected in mean-
ing with ‘shake*, not ‘grow’, and the sense connexion he assumed with
wicker was probably ‘shake’, ‘bend*.
Twig, ‘small branch’, appears here no doubt because of its sense con-
nexion with wicker and its formal identity with twig, ‘pinch* ; though in view
of Ogilvie’s suggestion above, we cannot rule out the possibility that
Hopkins assumed an etymological connexion with wicker. Twig is not in
fact related to the previous words, but is distantly related to twist, twine,
two, &c. I have seen no contemporary suggestion that twig is related to
twist, but Todd and Ogilvie mention the (then obsolete) senses ‘branch*
526
APPENDIX III
and ‘twig’ respectively for the noun twist. Perhaps this is the sense con-
nexion Hopkins saw with twig. If not, the connexion is probably with
wicker, since wicker-work ‘is formed by twining or turning one (twig) over
another’ (Richardson).
The connexion of twine with twist on the one hand, and with twy, two, &c.,
on the other, needs no explanation; and that these words are etymologically
related was well known. Twy must either be the obsolete variant of two
or twice, or the variant of the prefix twi- ; probably the latter, as still current :
twy-blade, for example, appears as an alternative spelling for the [^lant tway~
blade in Ogilvic. |
The appearance of twire here is of great interest. A verb twirk meaning
‘peep’, ‘peer’, ‘look narrowly’, and a corresponding noun mining ‘a
peep’, ‘a glance’, &c., are found in English; but, although usid in the
19th century, they seem to have been rare at that time. The verb, how-
ever, had been used by Shakespeare and Ben Jonson (for example), and
it seems likely that Hopkins had come across the word in the course of
his Elizabethan or i yth-century reading. He uses it later in his Journal of
the stars (see p. 181). But it is difficult to see what sense connexion he
had observed between ‘peep’ or ‘peer* and the idea of twisting or two-
foldness contained in the words among which twire has been placed. It
is true that he has a query after twire, and peering usually involves the
use of both eyes; but such a connexion seems still too slender a one to
be at all likely. Now it is probable that Hopkins, coming across the
comparatively rare word twire, would turn to a dictionary to look the
word up. Contemporary dictionaries differed as to its meaning and etymo-
logy, but in Todd (and apparently only there), there appears, along with
three other senses of the verb, a fourth sense, ‘To make flexures or wind-
ings’, with an illustrative quotation from Drayton’s Polyolbion. Also, in
Ogilvie (and apparently only there), there appears a noun twire meaning
‘A twisted thread or filament’, marked (like the verb) obsolete. (And this
noun does not appear in the contemporary edns of Ogilvie’s source,
Webster.) Either of these senses, but particularly, of course, the latter,
would satisfactorily explain the inclusion of twire in this list. And if
Hopkins had one or other (or both) of these meanings in mind, he is likely
to have first come across them in Todd and/or Ogilvie rather than in the
course of his own reading. For, although the OED records twire as a verb
(meaning, perhaps, ‘twirl’) and as a noun (meaning, perhaps, ‘twisted
thread’), both uses are marked as having been found once only, in Burton’s
Anatomy of Melancholy and Locke’s Observations on Silk respectively. At least
we may conclude that the appearance of twire in Hopkins’s list shows either
that he had consulted Todd or Ogilvie or both, or that he had read the
Burton and/or Locke passage. The etymology of twire, ‘peep’, &c., and of
twire, ‘twist’, &c., is not clear. The latter is very probably connected with
twine, two, &c. : it is unlikely to have been misprinted for twirl (thus the
OED), since this appears no less than seven times in the Locke Observations.
It should be added that Todd almost certainly misunderstood Drayton’s
use of the word in ‘the sun . . . looks through the twyring glades’: the
glades are probably not ‘winding’, but are, as it were, peeping at the sun.
PHILOLOGICAL NOTES
527
TO L)(os is very puzzling; it is difficult to see what connexion its meaning
(‘wall*) has with any of the preceding words, and etymologically it is
isolated from all the other words in the list. It is unlikely to be here simply
because of its slight similarity in form with some of the previous words.
Perhaps Hopkins’s thoughts had run in the following way: wicker ...»
twist . . wick (of a candle), Wick (as in Hackney Wick), of/cos*, Torxoff, &c.,
with TOLxos placed before olkos (‘house’) as the only t~ word of the group or
for no particular reason. Wick (of a candle) is also isolated etymologically
from the rest of the words: the sensc-linkcanhardly be withroixo?, but with
twisty &c., and the form-link is presumably with wicker, (Ogilvie has under
wick (of a candle) . . . ‘Qu. from twisting',) olkos is presumably linked in
sense and by assonance with roixos • it is related to the Wick of Hackney Wick
and to the •‘Wich and -wig of Harwich 2ir\d Schleswig. Liddell and Scott mention
that oiKos ‘is the Lat. vicus^ our old word wick^ wichy as in Painsu^zVA:, Norwich'.
Weak reappears here no doubt, because the -wig of Schleswig suggested the
unrelated {-)wig- of tdir-wig and wigging, with which Hopkins had already
(p. g) supposed weak to be connected. Wicked is probably related to weaky
and this appears to be another of Hopkins’s correct conjectures, though
the possibility of a connexion could have been gathered from Todd.
APPENDIX IV
Catalogue of the Manuscripts at Campion Hall, Oxford
NOTE-BOOKS
A. Journal
1 . Cover of black paper; top right-hand corner cut away to show
PRIVATE J. B 9X7-5 in. Dated 2 May 1866. On verso of front
cover; ‘Please not to read.’ Consecutive entries to 24 July 1866.
II. Identical with I, but no heading in corner. Dated 31 Aug. 1867.
Entries from 10 July 1867 Apr. 1868.
III. Identical with II, and immediate continuation of it. Dated 27 Jan.
1866: but entries from 17 Apr. 1868 to 18 July 1868.^
IV. Cover of marbled paper very worn: black back-binding broken:
letters ‘Ho’ on outside cover. Inside: ‘Esse quam vidcri.* 5*2 X 8-5
in. Continuation of III. 19 July 1868 to 10 Aug. 1872.
V. ‘next book — green with red edges’ (see note, p. 418). Good repair.
7x4-4 in. Continuation of IV: 10 Aug. 1872 to 7 Feb. 1875.
B. School Note-Books
I. Brown, impressed. 7-3 x 4-6 in. Inscribed inside: ‘Gerard M.
Hopkins from himself. Esse quam videri.’ Trigonometry and
Mechanics. Undated.
II. Cover of thick boards under marbled paper: corners and back of
green leather. Dated 23 May 1862; ‘Esse quam videri’ beneath. A
very long book completely filled. It begins with notes on the Pro-
mitheus Desmotis, then comes an extremely detailed discussion of
Thucydides, ii. 87 ff., with several beautifully drawn plans of the
battles at Naupactus. These notes may belong to school. What follows
is all Oxford. Notes from Riddell’s teaching on various plays of
Aeschylus and the earlier books of the Odyssey , and from Jowett on
Sophocles and Greek Choric metres. At the end are some general
notes on Greek history, and some notes taken at ill-attended lectures
on Plato’s Republic. All this belongs to the time when H was reading
Honour Mods: there are time-tables of them in C. I, Michaelmas
Term 1863.
The translation from Aeschylus, P.F. {PoemSj 177), is from this
book.
C. Early Diaries
I. Green cloth cover ; ‘Notes’ impressed in gold : rubber band and pencil
slot 4*9 X 2*9 in. Bad repair. Dated 24 Sept. 1863. Incomplete page
loose in end pocket; others torn out. Pencil; smudgings.
* For the discovery of these three note-books, see Preface, p. xxiv.
B 6028 N n
530
APPENDIX IV
11 . Identical with I, and immediate continuation of it. Dated 9 Sept.
1864: ends Jan. 1866.
Half-page from G. I (see p. 34 and n.) and two pages from C. II
(see pp. 49-50 and n. 49. 2) loose with Diaries. See Preface, p. xvii.
D. Oxford Essays, &c. (Note-books arranged in approx, chronological
order. D. I has cover of dark maroon cloth; the remainder are black-
paper covered.)
I. Essays on Logic, Aesthetics, &c. Undated, but clearly the earliest of
these books. Some initialed at end *E.C.W.*, i.e. Rej^d Edward
Cooper Woollcombe, Fellow and Tutor of Balliol. Others ‘R.S.’ (see
p. 76); others ‘N’, possibly William Lambert Newm^, Fellow,
History Lecturer, and Senior Dean of Balliol. See Prefaci, p. xxii.
II, ‘Credit and the causes of Commercial crises &c.’ See Preface, p. xxii.
III. ‘Essays for W. H. Pater Esq.’ See Preface, p. xxii.
IV. ‘On the Origin of Beauty: A Platonic Dialogue’. Dated' 12 May
1865.
V. ‘Essays — Sculpture &c*. Dated 22 May 1865. Mostly initialed ‘R.S.’
VI. Essays on Logic, &c. Mostly ‘R.S.’
VII. ‘Extracts &c’. Dated 27 Jan. 1866. Extracts from:
(a) Talleyrand’s speech for the liberty of the press, 24 July 1821.
(b) Mark Pattison’s essay. Tendencies of Religions Thought in England
1688-1750 [in Essays & Reviews, i860]. Extract begins: ‘Where
each text of Scripture has but one sense’ [Essays of Mark Pattison,
ed. H. Nettleship, 1889, ii. 67).
(c) Locke’s Essay, bk. iv, chap, xix, § 3 : ‘Or shall a poor country-
man be equally happy . , .?*
(d) Remusat : ‘Parmi nous un homme religieux est trop souvent un
hommc qui se croit entoure d’ennemis . . .*
(e) Max Muller, Chips from a German Workshop, 1867, on Brahman
schools of philosophy, Buddhism, &c. From Preface, p. xviii:
‘In those three Persons the One God was shown, . . The Vedas
or the Sacred Books of the Brahmans] and The Works of Confucius,
last §, i. 312.
(/) John Grote, Exploratio Philosophica, pt. i, Deighton Bell (Cam-
bridge), 1865: extracts beginning: ‘The physiologist may deny
that there is any meaning in the term “feeling” . . . ’ (ch. i:
Phenomenalism) ; and ending: ‘Our whole body is a sense to, or if
we prefer the expression, the sense of our intelligent self. . .’ (ch. ii :
Philosophy and Consciousness).
For papers found enclosed in this book sec P. i below.
VIII. ‘Plato’s Philosophy — ^R.W.’ Notes of Williams’s lectures.
IX. ‘Essays Hilary Term ’67*. Three essays, Logic and Metaphysics.
See Preface, p. xxiii.
X. ‘Essays for T. H. Green Esq.* Ethics, Plat, and Arist., Free Will.
XL ‘Essays for R, Williams’, Ethics of Plat, and Arist. See Preface, p. xxiii.
XII. Notes on ‘Greek Philosophy’. Date 9 Feb. 1868, occurs. See Preface,
p. xxiii.
CATALOGUE OF MSS AT CAMPION HALL, OXFORD 531
Vj. Sketch-Book
For description and reference to the sketches from it leproduced lierc,
see appx 1, p. 453.
F. Sermon Book
Black cloth cover. Inscribed ‘Fr. Humphrey gave me this book when he
left Oxford June, 1879.’ Twenty-seven sermons or parts of sermons,
written between 6 July 1879 26 June 1881. Some published in NB
(*937)- Now published in full in The Sermons and Devotional Writings of
GMH. Loose slips in book as listed in NB (1937), Appx II, B (p. 434).
G. Two Note-Books and Enclosure
These two books are of the same make : light brown cover with darker
brown back-binding, thin paper, thin books, c. 9 x 1 1 in.
I. Lecture-notes on ‘Nicomachean Ethics’, undated (? Dublin).
I a. (Described as the ‘Dublin Note-Book’). Inserted in G.I, an unbound
book of same size and paper. Miscellaneous notes 1884-5. Markings of
exam, papers, spiritual notes, lectures notes on Tacitus, Cicero, ‘Roman
Literature and Antiquities,’ &c., scraps on metre. Contains also early
drafts of Spelt from Sibyl's Leaves and Caradoc's Soliloquy. Of Spelt from
Sibyl's Leaves {Poems, 104) Bridges says ‘Date unrecorded’: these drafts
belong to the end of 1 884 or the beginning of 1 885 and are contemporary
with those of Caradoc's Soliloquy', this is printed by Bridges with other
fragments of St. Winefred's Well {Poems, 153) and he says in his note
‘The MS. which he sent me, April i, 1885, was copied, and that copy is
the text in this book, from A, the original not being discoverable.’ The
drafts in G. la represent the speech in its earliest stages, are fragmen-
tary, with many alternative readings, so that they give no grounds for
suggesting possible corrections to ‘copyist’s errors’ in Bridges’s text.
11. Notes for ‘Roman Literature and Antiquities’.
Notes for the course on ‘Roman Antiquities for Second Arts’ 1888.
H. Poems, &c.
PAPERS
I . Papers in the handwriting of Fr Francis E. Bacon, SJ.
(a) Version of ‘Elected silence sing to me’ titled The Kind Betrothal ;
printed in Poems, 46, as The Habit of Perfection. Considerable dif-
ferences in text. Undated.
{b) Version of Lines for a Picture of St. Dorothea {Poems, 47) , printed from
this text: three lines from end read ‘warped.’ Undated.
{c) ‘Opening of St. John Chrysostom’s Homily on the Fall of Eutro-
pius.* Published in The Sermons and Devotional Writings of GMH.
The above together on 7 single sheets ruled foolscap numbered 1-7.
{d) Winter with the Gulf Stream, version printed Poems, 23. St. 4, 1. 2
read ‘clammy’ for ‘damming’. Fr Bacon has added a note to his
MS: ‘N.B. In author’s handwriting. Seminary (St. M. Hall)
August 1871. Originally printed in “Once a Week” of which I
532
APPENDIX IV
have a copy; preserved many years before 1 knew G.M.H. F.E.B.’
There follow variations initialed GMH, though in handwriting
of FEB. One double sheet ruled foolscap written on inner sides
only,
(e) Penmaen Pool. Barmouth, Merionethshire, Aug. 1876. Small
variations from Bridges’s text, Poems ^ 67. Some of these marked in
pencil in another hand.
2. Hopkins autograph MSS.
(a) Nondum. This version printed Poems, 43.
(b) Easter. This version printed Poems, 45. j
(c) Rosa Mystica. Printed Poems, 50. 1
3. Hopkins autograph. \
(a) Hymnus Eucharisticus {Ad Mairem Virginem). Printed Poems, 193.
Undated: but see WHG’s note at p. 271. On long, thin strip of
paper. \
(b) Remembrance and Expectation initialed ‘M.H.’, almost \certainly
Manley Hopkins, as other copies of his poems are similarly initialed.
See P. I {b) below.
(c) Digby Dolben’s Metkought through many years and lands (No. 53 in
Bridges’s edn), with note at beginning ‘Found after his death* and
at end ‘It seems unfinished. D. A. S. Mackworth-Dolben*.
K. Lecture Notes: Rhetoric
(a) ‘Rhythm and the other structural parts of rhetoric — verse.’
{b) ‘Poetry and Verse.’
See Preface, p. xxvii.
L. Sermon delivered Mid-Lent Sunday, 11 Mar. 1877.
Published in The Sermons and Devotional Writings of GMH.
M. Classics
1 . Miscellaneous school notes, and scraps of uncertain date.
2. Notes on the Nicomachean Ethics. Uncertain date.
3. Notes on the ‘Seven against Thebes’. Undated: conj. when teaching
(Stonyhurst?).
4. ‘Metrical etc — notes made at Stonyhurst’. One folded sheet, undated.
5. ‘Homer — Loose notes’ on Iliad, 4, 5, 6. Small slips. Dublin period:
last note dated 12 Feb. 1886.
6. Notes on Bergk’s Poetae Lyrici Graeci : scraps on three small folded sheets.
Dublin period.
7. {a) Syllabus for ‘Royal University First Examination in Arts — Pass’.
{b) Notes on Examiners’ Papers.
(c) ‘Changes for 1886 and 1887’ in Syllabus.
N. Music
I. Notes on ‘Fourth Species of Counterpoint’. Annotations by R. P*
Stewart. Dated 7 Sept. [1886]. See p. 463, n. 2.
CATALOGUE OF MSS AT CAMPION HALL, OXFORD 533
2. (a) Setting of ‘Past like morning beam away’. Two copies, both per-
haps H autograph.
( 6 ) Jottings of music including unfinished setting of ‘Who is Sylvia?’
3. (a) ‘Exercises in Counterpoint: Note against Note.’ Annotated by
Stewart.
(b) ‘Firm chant: old English air.’ Marked by Stewart. In one place
the comment ‘nice sequential work’, and in another ‘very nice*.
O. Letter
Hopkins to Harry Bellamy, 21 Jan. 1889, from University College,
Dublin. Published in LL, iii. 66.
P. Miscellaneous
These papers are grouped as found.
1. Found enclosed in note-book D. VII.
(а) School or early Oxford autograph extracts Ecclesiastical Policy the
Best Policy: South.
{b) Rough pencil MS of Remembrance and Expectation 14 June 1868,
probably in hand of Manley Hopkins.
(c) Extracts from de Musset, Malherbe, &c., in unknown hand.
{d) A loose page of D. VII extract Studies in Poetry and Philosophy:
Wordsworth, J. C. Shairp, beginning ‘Each scene in nature has in
it a power of awakening . . .’
(e) Extracts from Coleridge BX. i and vi, on dreams caused by Bow-
yer, and the delirious girl talking Latin and Greek.
(/) A slip of French idioms.
(^) H autograph and another hand: slip with dialect proverbs
(? Lancs.).
(h) Slip in another hand ‘And rushing flights up golden stairs’.
(i) H transcript of Tennyson, The Higher Pantheism,
(A:) H autograph extract from St Bona venture’s Life of St. Francis,
ch. ix: ‘Ut autem ex omnibus . . . dulciter hortabatur.*
(/) H autograph tiny slip saying: ‘Quid tarn in voluntate quam
voluntas est {Aug. i de Lib. Arb. /. I. c. i).*
(m) Two press cuttings :
(i) Poems Songs of the Autumn Nights and The Sabbath. No date.
(ii) ‘A Happy Christian’ from Metropolitan Tabernacle Pulpit,
pp. 99-100.
2. Found in note-book D. IX.
{a) H autograph extracts from My beautiful lady.
(б) „ transcript of Tell me my heart. T. Morton.
{c) ,, „ of A Smile and a Sigh and Dead Hope.
Christina Rossetti.
{d) H autograph transcripts of Lady Lilith, Sibylla Palmifera, Venus
Verticordia. D. G. Rossetti.
{e) H autograph transcript of My mother bids me bind my hair.
534
APPENDIX IV
(/) H autograph page of odd notes on Aristotle’s logic.
(g) Notes on Sophocles’ Antigone in unknown hand.
3. Retreat Conferences.
{a) Notes for a conference on death. Undated.
{h) Notes for a conference on hell. Undated.
Both published in The Sermons and Devotional Writings of GMH.
4. Hopkins’s autograph MSS of Latin poems and translations found in
Journal A. III.
(a) Inundatio Oxoniana : printed Poems ^ 179. l
(b) Elegiacs: Tristi tu, memini: printed Poems , 180. One page written
over pencilled draft of first few lines of letter to BridgesW 30 Aug.
1867 {LL, i. 16): ‘I heard of Dolben’s death the day 1 returned
fr. Paris. . . .’ ^
(r) Fraterno nobis interluit unda cruore: printed Poems, 180, as 'Elegiacs;
After The Convent Threshold. \
{d) Translation of Horace’s Persicos odi, printed Poems, 182. Four pages
of notepaper, bottom right-hand corner of one sheet cut out: on
recto of this, part of the draft of an undated letter: ‘. . . most of
F. Ignatius Ryder, whose name perhaps you know: he comes to
see us, the other Fathers do not. He is the youngest of the priests.
But I was forgetting that you must have seen him. I do not expect
to be long here : if I get a vocation to the priesthood I shd. go away
(I shd. ... to be an Orato[rian] . . . and if not I s[hould] . . .
better myself. ... I knew for cer[tainj . . . was not to be. . . .* [For
discussion of this letter, see appx V, p. 537 : it was certainly written
at the Oratory, Edgbaston, between Nov. 1867 and Easter 186B.
The dots signify probably two words missing in each case.]
{e) Translation, with variants, from Horace’s Odi profanum volgus,
printed Poems, 183. Pencil; seven sides. On recto of one sheet the
unrelated quatrain, Not kind! to freeze me with forecast, {Poems,
264) ; and the draft of the beginning of an undated letter : ‘Dear
Aunt Laura, — No accident happened. Almost nobody had come
back; indeed the school is far from being complete now.’ [Clearly
written at the Oratory, Edgbaston, to Laura Hodges, between
Sept. 1867 and Easter 1868.]
On another sheet the following note or, possibly, draft of part
of a letter : ‘. . . must last in some form as long as the world, I think,
it is so consistent, so courageous, and so realist. But I see no reason
to think Gomtism will last long. If has little intellectual enchant-
ment and bears no moral headway. And it is not only that Comte
is to the English a stumbling-block and to the Germans foolishness
but that, I suppose, people say of him what they do not say of their
greatest enemies otherwise — that he is a quack.’
(/) Translation, with variants, of the hymn Jesu Dulcis Memoria,
printed Poems, 185. Pencil and ink.
{g) Translation of the first four lines of the hymn Ecquis binas:
O for a pair like turtles wear.
CATALOGUE OF MSS AT CAMPION HALL, OXFORD 535
5. Verses The Lady of Lynriy initialed MC [Marcus Clarke: see p. 293 and
LL, iii. 14] with note ‘If you show it to anyone you must copy it
out again’.
R, The Spiritual Exercises
EXERCITIA / SPIRITUALIA / S.P. IGNATII DE LOYOLA / CUM
VERSIONE LITTERALI / EX AUTOGRAPHO HISPANICO /
notis illustrata / addita appendice / DE RATIONE MEDITANDI /
EDITIO PARISIENSIS PRIMA / iuxta Romanam editionem quin-
tam / [I.H.S.] / , . . 1865. An interleaved copy with notes by Hopkins
between 1878 and 1885: in his Latin quotations he uses the literal, not
the Vulgate text : they are printed in parallel columns with Fr Roothaan’s
notes beneath. A number of the interleaved pages are torn out, of which
six survive. [Hopkins’s notes are published in full in The Sermons and
Devotional Writings of GMH.^
appendix V
Hopkins's Resolutions and '‘Slaughter of the innocents'
The three dates, 23 Aug, 1867, 2 and 1 1 May 1868, are very carefully cross-
referenced in the Journal^ as marking three stages in one extended resolution.
In the first stage, in the chapel of the Poor Clares at Netting Hill, on 23 Aug.
1867, the resolution is first made, but in a cautiously conditional form — ‘if
it is better*. When this is being entered in the Journal twelve days later it
is further qualified by the words: ‘but now, Sept. 4, nothing is decided.’
Throughout the Devonshire holiday of that September, and all through the
time at the Oratory School, there is no further reference in the Journal to
this resolution. On 2 May 1868, apparently during the Retreat with the
Jesuits at Roehampton, there is the entry: ‘This day, I think, I resolved’,
and there are cross-references backwards to 23 Aug. and forwards to 1 1 May.
The w'ording here seems clearly to imply that the resolution was firmly and
finally made on or about 2 May, but that there was some slight doubt about
the exact day. The forward reference points to nothing at all but the words
‘Slaughter of the innocents’ under 1 1 May, where a back-reference is put to
make assurance trebly sure.
Dr Gardner has suggested tentatively that this enigmatic phrase may
refer to the resolution to remain celibate, and contain an allusion to the
Epistle for Holy Innocents’ Day ; but in doing so he refers to the dates 2, 5,
and 7 May {Poems and Prose of GMHy Penguin Poets, p. 1 12, n. 2). By thus
regrouping the dates he goes counter to Hopkins’s minutely careful and
explicit arrangements. For the cross-referencing in the MS is clearly meant
to exclude the major decision recorded under 5 May and confirmed under the
7th — the resolution ‘to be a priest and religious’. These two entries are not
cross-referenced either to each other, or to anything else : and the second of
them is followed by the words: ‘but still doubtful between St. Benedict and
St. Ignatius’.
There were three distinct matters to be resolved upon :
{a) Whether to be a ‘priest and religious’; and this would necessarily
involve the decision on celibacy.
{b) If to be a religious, whether to be a Benedictine or a Jesuit. There is
no evidence that he ever seriously considered any other order, unless it were
the Oratorians, with whom he had lived, worked, and made his Easter
Retreat in 1868. And the evidence here — such as it is — seems to be nega-
tive. The key words of the scrap of the only directly relevant letter that has
survived (see p. 534) are tantalizingly missing; but the one relevant sentence
that is complete tells against staying with the Oratorians : ‘I do not expect to
be long here : if I get a vocation to the priesthood I shd. go away. . , .’ New-
man too was sure his vocation lay elsewhere: ‘You are quite out in thinking
that when I offered you a “home” here, I dreamed of yourhavinga vocation
* See pp. 152, 164-5.
APPENDIX V
538
for us. This I clearly saw you had not, from the moment you came to us’, he
wrote to him on 14 May 1868 {LL, iii. 408).
(c) Some other important matter needing decision, running from an early
date, but now concurrently intertwined with the other two, yet clearly
distinguished from them.
The entry ‘Slaughter of the innocents’, of 1 1 May, refers not to the deci-
sion or resolution about this matter, but to some consequence upon the
decision which had been made nine days earlier. Any kind of oblique allu-
sion to Holy Innocents’ day seems out of keeping with Hopkins’s habit of
mind ; and the absence of a capital ‘I’ is out of keeping with his scrupulously
reverent style. The phrase seems to be a statement of fact, a redord of the
act consequent on the earlier decision. Surely this act was the Darning of
poems,* referred to in the famous letter to Canon Dixon of 5 Get. 1878:
‘What I had written I burnt before I became a Jesuit and resolved to
write no more, as not belonging to my profession, unless it were by\the wish
of my superiors’ (LL, ii. 14). The use of the word ‘resolved* in tins letter
implies a formally considered decision, and is the very word which Hopkins
had used in his Journal entry for 2 May 1868.
We know from the letter to Bridges of 7 Aug. 1 868 that the poems were
burnt by then : ‘I cannot send my Summa for it is burnt with my other verses :
1 saw they wd. interfere with my state and vocation* (LL, i. 24). As there
is in the Journal no hint of such an act in the six days which had passed
since he returned from Switzerland on i August, it seems clear that Hopkins
did the burning before he went abroad on 3 July : and there is no other entry
in May or June which could possibly be interpreted as referring to it. The
conclusion seems inescapable that the slaughtered innocents were his poems,
the children of his creation.
What was the connexion between the burning of the poems and the deci-
sion to be a Jesuit? In time it was very close: on 7 May he is still doubtful
between Benedictines and Jesuits; on the 14th Newman wrote to him:
‘Don’t call “the Jesuit discipline hard”, it will bring you to heaven. The
Benedictines would not have suited you* {LL, iii. 408). Hopkins must have
written on the 12 th at latest that he had chosen the Jesuits and felt it to be
the harder choice. Thus within five days (8-12 May) it seems that he both
chose the Society and burnt the poems. But he had conditionally decided to
burn them the August before and had made his final resolve on or about
2 May: so, although the decision was made during retreat in a Jesuit house,
with the Jesuit way of life more prominently in mind than the Benedictine,
their sacrifice cannot have been thought of as necessarily bound up with
the choice of the harder discipline. ~
But the two major questions for decision — whether he had a vocation for
the priesthood at all, and whether poetry would have any place in his life
as a priest — go back beyond Easter 1868. On 9 Jan. the question of the voca-
tion is prominent, but apparendy quite open {LL, i. 22) ; on 12 Feb. he writes
to Baillie: T am expecting to take orders and soon* {LL, iii. 231). This refers
only to Minor Orders, as is clear at the end of the paragraph; and the letter
mentions the possible grief of his mother if he were a priest. Nor should the
* For a discussion of what was probably destroyed, see Preface, p. xix.
Hopkins’s resolutions and ‘slaughter of the innocents’ 539
phrase he uses — ‘whether in a few months I may not be shut up in a cloister’
— be taken too seriously, when written to Baillie. In the same letter he
seems certain already that entry to the priesthood must mean virtually
the end of his poetry: ‘I want to write still and as a priest I very likely
can do that too, not so freely as I shd. have liked, e.g. nothing or little
in the verse way, but no doubt what wd. best serve the cause of my re-
ligion.’ But that was his own view of his duties as a priest, as he much
later made clear to Bridges, when he told him that his poems were
virtually unknown to the Jesuits: ‘It always seems to me that poetry is un-
professional, but that is what I have said to myself, not others to me’ (24 Aug.
1884: LL, i. 197). Possibly tht'reis a connexion between all these statements
and a much earlier scruple: that stern, private resolution Hopkins entered
in his Diary on 6 Nov. 1865, two years before he considered his vocation
for the priesthood, and almost a year before his conversion : ‘On this day
by God’s Grace I resolved to give up all beauty until I had His leave for
it *
APPENDIX VI
The Organization of the Societji of Jesus
From the Catholic Encyclopedia, vol. xiv, pp. 83 fF., article ‘Society of Jesus’ by J. H.
Pollen, SJ. (By permission of the Robert Appleton Companv, New York.)
Members of the Society fall into four classes:
(1) Novices (whether received as lay brothers for the domestic and tem-
poral services of the order, or as aspirants to the priesthood), who are trained
in the spirit and discipline of the order, prior to making the religious vows.
(2) At the end of two years the novices make simple but perpetual vows,
and, if aspirants to the priesthood, become formed scholastics; they remain in
this grade as a rule from two to fifteen years, in which time they will have
completed all their studies, pass (generally) a certain period in teaching,
receive the pricsthocxl, and go through a third year of novitiate or probation
(the tertianship) . According to the degree of discipline and virtue, and to the
talents they display (the latter arc normally tested by the examination for
the Degree of Doctor of Theology), they may now become formed coadju-
tors or professed members of the order.
(3) Formed coadjutors, whether formed lay brothers or priests, make vows,
which, though not solemn, are perpetual on their part; while the Society,
on its side, binds itself to them, unless they should commit some grave
offence.
(4) The professed are all priests, who make, besides the three usual solemn
vows of religion, a fourth, of special obedience to the pope in the matter of
missions. . . . The professed of the four vows constitute the kernel of the
Society; the other grades are regarded as preparatory or as subsidiary to
this. The chief offices can be held by the professed alone; and though they
may be dismissed, yet they must be received back, if willing to comply with
the conditions that may be prescribed. ... All live in community alike as
regards food, apparel, lodging, recreation, and all are alike bound by the
rules of the Society
Novitiate and training. . . . Usually the candidate applies in person to the
provincial, and if he considers him a likely subject he refers him for examina-
tion to four of the more experienced fathers. They question him about the
age, health, position, occupation of his parents, their religion and good
character, their dependence on his services; about his own health, obliga-
tions, such as debts, or other contractual relations; his studies, qualifica-
tions, moral character, personal motives as well as the external influences
which may have led him to seek admission. The results of their questioning
and of their own observation they report severally to the provincial, who
weighs their opinions carefully before deciding for or against the appli-
cant. . . . Candidates may enter at any time, but usually there is a fixed day
each year for their admission, towards the close of the summer holidays, in
542
APPENDIX VI
order that all may begin their training, or probation, together. They spend
the first ten days considering the manner of life they are to adopt and its
difficulties, the rules of the order, the obedience required of its members.
They then make a brief retreat meditating on what they have learned about
the Society and examining closely their own motives and hopes of persever-
ance in the new mode of life. If all be satisfactory to them and the superior
or director who has charge of them, they are admitted as novices, wear the
clerical costume (as there is no special Jesuit habit), and begin in earnest
the life of members of the Society. They rise early, make a brief visit to the
chapel, a meditation on some subject selected the night beforej, assist at
Mass, review their meditation, breakfast, and then prepare fori the day’s
routine. This consists of manual labour, in or out of doors, reading books
on spiritual topics, ecclesiastical history, biography, particularly of men or
women distinguished for zeal and enterprise in missionary or educational
fields. There is a daily conference by the master of novices on son\e detail
of the Institute, notes of which all are required to make, so as to be ready,
when asked, to repeat the salient points.
... As soon as possible all make the spiritual exercises for thirty days. This
is really the chief test of a vocation, as it is also in epitome the main work of
the two years of the novitiate and for that matter of the entire life of a Jesuit.
On these exercises the Constitutions, the life, and activity of the Society arc
based, so that they are really the chief factor in forming the character of
a Jesuit. In accordance with the ideals set forth in these exercises, of dis-
interested conformity with God’s will, and of personal love of Jesus Christ,
the novice is trained diligently in a meditative study of the truths of religion,
in the habit of self-knowledge, in a constant scrutiny of his motives and of
the actions inspired by them, in the correction of every form of self-deceit,
illusion, plausible pretext, and in the education of his will, particularly in
making choice of what seems best after careful deliberation and without self-
seeking. Deeds, not words, are insisted upon as proof of genuine service, and
a mechanical, emotional, or fanciful piety is not tolerated. As the novice
gradually thus becomes master of his judgement and will, he grows more and
more capable of offering to God the reasonable service enjoined by St. Paul,
and seeks to follow the Divine will, as manifested by Jesus Christ, by His
vicar on earth, by the bishops appointed to rule His Church, by his more
immediate or religious superiors, and by the civil powers rightly exercising
authority. This is what is meant by Jesuit obedience, the characteristic virtue
of the order, such a sincere respect for authority as to accept its decisions and
comply with them, not merely by outward performance but in all sincerity
with the conviction that compliance is best, anB that the command expresses
for the time the will of God, as nearly as it can be ascertained.
The noviceship lasts two years. On its completion the novice makes the
usual vows of religion, the simple vow of chastity in the Society having the force
of a diriment impediment to matrimony. During the no viceship but a brief
time daily is devoted to reviewing previous studies. The noviceship over, the
scholastic members, i.e. those who are to become priests in the Society,
follow a special course in classics and mathematics lasting two years, usually
in the same house with the novices. Then, in another house and neighbour-
THE ORGANIZATION OF THE SOCIETY OF JESUS 543
hood, three years arc given to the study of philosophy, about five years to
teaching in one or other of the public colleges of the Society, four years to
the study of theology, priestly orders being conferred after the third, and,
finally, one year more to another probation or noviceship, intended to help
the young priest to renew his spirit of piety and to learn how to utilize to the
best of his ability all the learning and experience he has acquired. In
exceptional cases, as in that of a priest who has finished his studies before
entering the order, allowance is made, and the training period need not last
over ten years, a good part of which is spent in active ministry.
BOVEY TRACEY
00
STONYHURST DISTRICT
INDEX I
First Lines of Early Poems and Fragments
{excluding variants of published poems)
Page
A basket broad of woven white rods ..... 58
A noise of falls I am possessed by 66
A pure gold lily, but by the pure gold lily .... 48
A silver scarce-calbsilver gloss ...... 52
... a standing fell ........ 54
A star most spiritual, principal, preeminent .... 50
Above / The vast of heaven stung with brilliant stars . . 43
All as the moth call’d Underwing alighted .... 51
Altho’ God’s word has said 32
Although she be more white 50
Altho’ unchallenged, where she sits 29
— and on their brittle green quils ..... 22
. . . and then as thick as fast 55
As Devonshire letters, earlier in the year .... 63
As it fell upon a day 71
Bellisle! that is a fabling name, but we .... . 60
Bid your Papa Goodnight, Sweet exhibition! ... 37
. . . bringing heads of daffodillies 49
But if this overlast the day 49
But what indeed is ask’d of me? 62
Confirmed beauty will not bear a stress .... 60
Dawn that the pebbly low-down East ..... 55
Dewy fields in the morning under the sun .... 46
Did Helen steal my love from me? ..... 36
Distance / Dappled with diminish’d trees .... 31
During the eastering of untainted morns .... 30
From any hedgerow, any copse 57
Glazed water vaulted o’er a drowsy stone .... 67
Glimmer’d along the square-cut steep 35
He’s all that’s bad, I know; a knave, a flat ... . 37
He’s wedded to his theory, they say 37
He play’d his wings as though for flight .... 31
He shook with racing notes the standing air ... . 65
He was a shepherd of the Arcadian mood .... 27
Her prime of life — cut down too soon 35
— Hill, / Heaven and every field, are still .... 31
His gilded rowels 47
I have desired to go 33
I hear a noise of waters drawn away 54
... in her cheeks that dwell 39
In more precision now of light and dark .... 55
550
INDEX OF FIRST LINES
In the staring darkness
rage
72
It docs amaze me, when the clicking hour
.
.
. 40
Late I fell in the ccstacy
35
Like shuttles fleet the clouds, and zdler .
• 36
Mothers are doubtless happier for their babes
• 67
Night’s lantern
* 44
— now the rain ......
• 39
O Death, Death, He is come ....
58
— O Guinevere ......
45
O what a silence is this wilderness ! . . .
. 66
Or else their cooings came from bays of trees
34
Or ever the early stirrings of skylark
• 50
Or try with eyesight to divide ....
65
Proved Etherege, prudish, selfish, hypocrite, heartless
V 50
Pure fasted faces draw unto this feast .
• 57
Reverted, with thrown-back and tossing cape
• 67
See on one hand ......
39
She mark’d where I and Fabian met .
. 64
She schools the flighty pupils of her eyes
26
— She by a sycamore .....
• 52
Some men may hate their rivals and desire .
62
Stars / float from the borders of the main
• 39
Stars waving their indivisible rays
. 44
The dented primrose and bead-budded may
• 55
The ends of the crisp buds she chips
. 48
The melancholy Daphnis doats on him
• 85
The moonlight-mated glowless glowworms shine
■ 52
The peacock’s eye ......
• V
— the shallow folds of the wood ....
• 38
The sparky air .
20
The stars were packed so close that night
• 72
The sun just risen ......
• 58
The time was late and the wet yellow woods .
• 39
The villain shepherds and misguided flock
. 18
The wind, that passes by so fleet ....
9
There is an island, wester’d in the main
• 39
They are not dead who die, they are but lost who live
141
They came / Next to meadows abundant, pierced with flowers
• 43
Think of an opening page illuminM
.
• 35
To rise you bid me with the lark ....
• 37
We live to see .
. 48
What was it we should strike the road again?
. 68
When cuckoo calls and I may hear
• 59
When eyes that cast about in heights of heaven
. 58
Who loves me here and has my love
. 68
Whose braggart ’scutcheon, whose complaisant crest
18
— Yes for a time they held as well
.
■ 39
INDEX II
Persons and Places
Titles of published works and of pictures are entered under the name of the author
or painter, and in longer entries are arranged alphabetically. Works published
anonymously or of which the author is unknown are entered under title.
References to buildings and streets arc entered under the name of town or village
except where a cross-reference indicates a separate heading.
The page number is printed in italics when the passage to which the index
refers is annotated.
Aar, river 177 (2), 178
Abbotsleigh (‘Abbot’s Leigh’) ; convent
of Perpetual Adoration ^57
Addis, William Edward (sometimes
‘A.’): walks with H 22, 23, 133, 135,
137; ‘H’s arguments are coloured*
58; H’s sonnets sent to 63; lodgings
at Oxford with H 133; reads paper
to Hexameron 133; fasting 134, 135;
walking tour with H 140-1; letter
from 158; visits H at the Oratory
164; on Fletcher’s death 218, 219;
ordained 227; visits H at Roehamp-
ton 229; also 49, 53, 55, 57, 58, 71,
138, 187, 249, 256
Aeschylus: lost plays 22
Agar, Revd William Seth, Canon of
Plymouth 757
Agra and Mastermans Bank 77^, 137,
^39
Aitken, Revd Robert: The Teaching of
the Types 60
Ajax 17-18, 19
Alan of Walsingham idy
Alexandra Palace (‘the Palace’) 750
Allen, Mrs 184
Alma-Tadema, Sir Lawrence: ‘Flute
Player, The’ 240; ‘Joseph overseer of
Pharaoh’s granaries’ 243; ‘Picture
Gallery, The’ 245; Tibullus’ visit
to Delia’ 7^9; ‘Vintage Festival, The’
245
Alpnach 171
Alps 51, 170-83 passim, 262; Bernese
Highland 171
Amadeus I (‘Amadeo’), King of Spain
217
Amcotts: see Cracroft-Amcotts
America: see United States
Anderson, Arthur 16
Andrea, Most Revd Girolamo d*,
Cardinal : death 76[5
Anson, William Reynell 16
Aosta 182, 233
Apollonius Rhodius: quot. 19
Apostles, the: dream of 193
Architectural Exhibition (1868) 166
Aristophanes: Frogs 6n, 22; Plutus 1 1
Aristotle: Plato and 117; his systems
1 17; on Parmenides 130; on imita-
tion 1*77; on iambic 2^4; on trochaic
2/4; on rhythm 275-^6; also 81, 82,
*19
Worhs: Ethics 49, 54 (2), 83', Meta--
physics quot. 729, 130; Poetics 4, 2^3;
Politics 49; Rhetoric 49; — quot, 275
Arnold, Matthew: in National Review
34; Essays 56; lectures on Celtic
literature 757
Arnold, Dr I’homas 6
Arran 213
Arromanches 148
Arth 170
Arundel House 50
Arundel Society 27
Ascot 49
Asklepiades 22
Assyria: art 76, 77
Athens 122, 127
Aurelius, Marcus 123
Austin, Capt. and Mrs 256
Austin, St: Arroasian Canons of 160;
De Musica quot. 273 (2)
Australia: English trees 190
Austria 143, 145
Avilion 140
Awdry, William 757
Babbacombe (‘Babbicombe’) 254; bay
156, 254, 255: church 156, 254
Bablock Hythe 133, 137
Bacon, Mr 257 (2), 258
Bacon, Francis: Essays 13, 56; Novum
Organon 49; also 1 16 (2), 1 19
Bacon, Fr Francis Edward, SJ 208, 2 1 3
Badely (‘Baddeley’) Library 22T
552
INDEX OF PERSONS AND PLACES
Bagchot, Walter: on the Grotesque 6o
Bagley Wood 1 7, 22 (2)
Baillie, Alexander William Mowbray:
with H at Oxford 9, 16 (3), 17, 55; at
Bayeux 148; with H in London 164,
185, 186 (2), 188; on Fletcher’s death
218; visits H at Roehampton 229;
threatened with consumption 262
Bailward, Thomas Henry i6
Baker, William ig
Balagias 235
Ball, Mr 214
Ballantine, William, Serjeant-at-law
218
Balliol, John 6n
Balliol College 47, 60; debating sor. 54
(‘F.I.G.’), 1^3; H’s old rooms 134;
boat 136; new buildings 136; Garden
Quadrangle 137; St Giles’ gate 138;
chapel 140 (‘our chapel’); class list
159
Bampton, Fr Joseph, SJ 244 , 247
Banning, Henry Thomas 1 59
Baring-Gould, Revd Sabine 134
Barraud, Clement William 261
Bartolommeo, Fra 55
Basel 169; church 169; museum lyo
Bassus, Cassianus: Geoponica quol. 34
Battenalp 176
Bayeux 148
Bazaine, Francois, Marshal 203
Beaumont, James 50
Beaumont Lodge: H’s visits 236, 240,
249, 250, 256
Becky Falls 155
Beddingfield (? Bessels Leigh): churcli
J35
Becchey, Mrs: death 262
Beechey, Mary 18, 159
Beethoven, Ludwig van : Pathetic Sonata
166
Beiderlinden, Fr 250
BcJlasis, Richard Garnett 138
Belmont: Benedictine monastery T4T
BcltrafEo, Giovanni Antonio: ‘Ma-
donna’ 168
Benedict, St 163
Bengal: famine 241
Benson, Richard Meux: Manual of
Intercessory Prayer^ 140
Bentley, Richard : 6n (‘the great Bent-
leius’)
Berne (‘Bern’) 173
Bernini, Giovanni Lorenzo 254
Berry Head 252
Bethesda, five porches of 258.
Betts, Miss 256
Bibaculus, M. Furius 5/
Bicester 62
Bickersteth, Revd Edward Henry X44
Bickersteth, Robert 138
Bicknell, Mr 184
Billington 231, 234
Binsey 137, 138
Birkenhead 9
Birkett, James, H’s uncle (‘Unde
James’) 242
Bishopsteignton 250
Bishop’s Wood, Highgate 130 (2)
Bismarck (Otto Prince von Bismarck-
Schonhausen) 241
Bisschop (‘Bischoff ’), Ghristoflel 164
Bitton, Thomas (‘Bytton’), Bp of Exeter
253 \
Blackburn 214, 22'i, 230, 236 \
Black Forest 169 ^ ^ ^
Black Moor 153 \
Bloxam, G. J. 22 \
Blunt House: see Croydon \
Bockett, Harriet Hopkins, Mt*s Cyril
Bockett, Rebecca: see Hopkins, Mrs
Arthur
Bodfari 258
Bodlewyddan Church 262
Bodoano, Mr 257, 260
Beruv^, Br: death 203
Bois de Boulogne 148
Bonaparte, Prince Pierre 202
Bond, Edward (sometimes ‘E.B.’) 76,
33> ^3^; with H in Switzerland 168,
i73. 174* 177 (2)> 181, 182; on
dreams 194 (2); visits H at Roe-
hamplon 229
Bond, John 133
Bond, Susan 262
Bonds, the 139, 159
Bonheur, Auguste 143
Bonnat, L6on: ‘St Vincent dc Paul’ 143
Bonomi, Joseph 241
Bottor Rocks 156
Bource, Henry; ‘Ruined! the day after
the tempest’ 247
Bovey Tracey: H’s visit /jj, 154-7;
Becky Falls 133; flower-show and
industrial exhibition 133; House of
Mercy 138; old church 138: potteries
/J7; also 166; map 545
Bowditch 25
Bowies, the Miss 138
Bowles, William Lisle 80
Boyce, George Price 142
Boyl, Count de 202
Braddan Church 223
Brady, Fanny 16
Brasenose College 47, 60
Brechin, Rt Revd Alexander Penrose
Forbes, Bp of 6b, 138
Breil 182
Breithom, mt. 180, j8i (3)
Brent, river 144, 151 (‘river at Hendon’)
INDEX OF PERSONS AND PLAGES
Brentford, Sion Lane 197
Brett, John : landscape of Capri ; sea-
piece 'Christmas Morning’ 167;
'Summer Noon in the Scilly Isles* 246
Bridges, Robert: class at Oxford 159;
goes abroad 759; returns 168 \ bitten
by dog 187
Bridgenorth 158
Bridport 72
Brienz 173 (2); lake 172, 173, 176
Bright, William 156
Brighton 143, 241
Brill 169
Brindle, Fr William, SJ 259
Bristol: Church congress at 60; H’s
visits 140, 256; Velindra /^o; Cathe-
dral 256
Churches: St Mary Redcliffe 256)
St Raphael’s 140^ 256
Brittany 152
Brockennook 228
Brodick 213
Bronte, Charlotte 169
Brookes, S. 158
Brotherhood of the Holy Trinity
(‘B.H.T.’) 17
Brown, Rt Rcvd James, Bp of Slirews-
bury 259
Brown, Ford Madox, 32
Brown, Rt Revd Thomas Joseph, Bp of
Newport and Mcnevia 259, 261 ^‘thc
bp’)
Browne, Revel Charles Gordon 148
Browning, Elizabeth Barrett 287
Browning, Robert 37; imperfect rhymes
285, 286
Poems: Fijine 281; Plight of the
Duchess, The 286; Home Thoughts from
the Sea 285; Old Pictures in Florence
quot. 19; Paracelsus 56; Pied Piper
illustrated 164
Brownings, the 30 {see also above)
Brownlow, Fr William Robert 254
Briinig pass 1 72, 1 73
Brussels 168, 169, 210
Bryn Bella 257
Bullaton Rocks 153
Burges, William 60, 166
Burke, Edmund 107
Burlington House: see Old Masters Ex-
hibition, Royal Academy
Burne-Jones, Sir Edward: ‘Lc Chant
d’ Amour* 142; ‘Zephyrus (‘Cupid*)
conveying Psyche* 142; also 237
Burns, Robert: song quot. 287
Burrows, Mr 54
Bursledon 214, 217, 252
Burton, Sir Frederic William 31 ; draw-
ingss; address 34; ‘study* 142
Burton, W, S. 31
553
Butler, Joseph: Analogy qf Religion 49;
sermons 49
Butterfield, William: designs rejected
136; Tintern Abbey and /40; want of
rhetoric 248
Churches built or restored: All Saints’,
Babbacombe 156, 254; All Saints’,
Margaret Street 248; Merton College
chapel 59; St Mary’s, Ottery 59;
St Mary Magdalen’s, W. Lavington
6o\ St Sebastian’s, Wokingham (‘new
church’) 49; Wootton parish church
56
Byrne, Br Alexander: death 243
Byrne, Br John 797, 198
Byron, George Gordon, 6th Baron 281 ;
The Siege of Corinth quot. 287
Byron, H. J. : Dearer than Life 759
Bytton, Bp: see Bitlon
Caerwys 257, 258; Wood 260, 262
Cairns, Hugh Cairns, ist Earl (‘Lord
Cairnes’), Lord Chancellor 248
Calcutta 243
Calderoi, Philip Hermogenes 167;
‘Queen of the Tournament* 244
Cambridgeshire: flood 229
Campbell, Fr Archibald, SJ 22g, 243
Campbell, Thomas: 7 'e Mariners quot.
278
Canterbury Cathedral; Norman stairs
14
Capaldi, Fr 227
Gapel, Rt Revd Mgr: A Reply to the
Right Hon. W, E. Gladstone's 'Political
Expostulation' 262
Capri 142, 247
Garlile, James Wren 159
Carlisle 73
Carlists, the 241
Carlsbad 244, 247
Carlyle, Thomas 76
Carmel Mt., Our Lady of 199
Casano, Fr Michael, SJ 797
Case, Thomas 133, 138, 159
Caterham 39
Cato 123
Cefn 258; Rocks 259
Chagford 66
Challis, Henry William 158, 159 {2), 218
Chalmers, Alexander 16
Chandler : his dreams 1 94
Chappie, Mrs 9
Charles, Uncle: see Hopkins, C.
Charles I, King 214
Charlton, Oswald 158
Chartcris, Hon. Francis 202
Ch^tillon 182
Chelmsford, Frederic Thesiger, ist
Baron 248
554
INDEX OF PERSONS AND PLACES
Cheltenham 5
Chepstow 140
Chcsney, Sir George Tomkyns: The
Battle of Dorking 213
Chester: tumulus 185
China 242
Chorley in the Woods 226
Christ Church 19, 21, 60, 137, 159;
Meadows 21, 133
Christians of St Thomas', see Howard,
G. B.
Chronicles of Carlmgford: see Oliphant,
Mrs
Chudleigh 1 54 : rocks 253
Cicero 2y6
Glapham 20
Clare, John: I am quot. 63
Glares, chapel of the Poor 132
Clarke, Marcus Andrew Hislop 9, 21
Clarke, Fr Richard Frederick, SJ 230
Claude Lorraine 79
Claypen, Mr 149
Cleave, Mr (carpenter) 13^, 155
Clifford, Charles Hugh, 8lh Baron 134,
253
Clifford, Fr Walter, SJ 236
Clifton 256
Clitheroe 227, 236; Castle 226
Clwyd, river 260, 261
Clyde, river 212, 214; Firth 213
Cobden, Richard: grave 60
Cockburn, Sir Alexander, Lord Chief
Justice 241
Coldwcll, Mr 1 71
Coleridge, Ernest Hartley 31
Coleridge, Fr Henry James, SJ 163, 259
Coleridge, Henry Nelson; Greek Classic
Poets 33
Coleridge, John Duke, ist Baron 59,
218
Coleridge, Samuel Taylor 84
Coleridges, the (Revd Derwent Cole-
ridge and family) 168
Coles, Mrs (Eliza Stuckey) 136
Coles, Julia 136
Coles, Vincent Stuckey 63 (2), 149
Colhays Woods 153
Colley, Fr Reginald, SJ 234.
Cologne 168; Cathedral 168-9
Combe Wood 243
Considine, Fr Daniel Heffernan, SJ
236; with H in Devon 250, 251;
in Bristol 256
Congress: see United States
Cooper’s Hill 257
Copeman, Frederick John ig
Cornelius (philosopher’s servant) 232
Cornelius, Peter von 32
Cornwall: language 200
Corpus Ghristi College 47
Corry, Fr 162
Coupe, Br John igo
Cousin-Montauban, Charles, General
202
Cowdray (‘Cowdery’) Park 143
Cracroft-Amcotts, Vincent 5, 16
Grauden, Prior: his chapel 188
Cripps (tradesman) 59, 63
Croham Hurst 187
Crome, John 144
Croydon 43; Blunt House 143, 159, 163,
187 j
Crystal Palace 759 |
Guddesdon
Cumberland: dialect 15
Cumnor 17, 22 (2), 137; Hill 13^; Hurst
141
Gunliffc, Mrs 50, 152, 188
Gwm 257 (2), 261
Dalziel, Edward 184
Daniel, Wilson Eustace ig
Dante Alighieri 9, 50; Inferno quot. 2yg
(‘Qiicsta . . .’)
Darboy, Charles: see Paris, Arch bp of
Dart, river 252
Dartmoor 65, 66, 154, 251, 252
Daubeny, Charles: lectures on Shrubs of
the Ancients 61
Daubigny, Charles- Pierre : landscape
by 144
David, Mons. 187
Dawlish 250
Dear, Robert Colley Lawton 1 59
Dearer than Life-, see Byron, H. J.
Dc Lacys, the 226
Delany, Mrs (Mary Granville) 234
De Morgan, Augustus: death 203
Denbigh: cats 257; lime-kiln 260; view
262-^^
Denham, Sir John: CoopePs Hill quot,
103; Castle 263
Denison, Edmund Beckett: Gothic
Architecture 36
Dennc Park 143S
Dent Blanche 180, 18 1
De Quinccy, Thomas: trans. from
Lucan 5/; on Homer 31 \ on Keats
52; anecdotes about 33
De Rancf: see Ranee
Derby Castle, Isle of Man 222, 234
Devonshire 48, 140; H’s visits 66, i53-7>
250-6; dialect see Index III Words
Devriendt, Juliaan: ‘Guillebert dc
Lannoy recounting his adventures’
149
Dick, Uncle: see Lane, R.
Dickens, Charles: Dombey and Son 56;
Our Mutual Friend 56 ; death 202
Dieppe 148, 184
INDEX OF PERSONS AND PLAGES
Dioscorides : De Materia Medica quot. 6i
(2), 62
Ditton Hall 236 (2), 260
Divine Master \ see Skene, F. M. F.
Dixon, Revd Richard Watson jo, 60;
Historical Odes 73
Dobson, Joseph (or ? John) 248
Doire (Dora Baltea), river 182
Dolben, Digby Mackwortli 55, 6b, 71;
death 7^9; H received a great mercy
about 2^
Dolben, Ellen 168
Dolcino, Fra, of Novara 133
Dominic, Fr: see Smith, G. M.
Dorset, 251, 252
Douglas, Isle of Man 221 (2), 222, 225
(2), 234, 235
Dover, 168
Doyle, John Andrew 159
Dranse, river 183
Drayton, Michael: Polyolbion 281
Drew, Sarah 24
Dryden, John 112; The Hind and the
Panther written at Ugbrookc 253 \ —
quot. 280 (‘Without unspotted . .
use of synizesis 283
Duche, Revd Jacob 136
Duffy, Br 237
Dugmore, Horace 135, 150 (2), 188
Dugmorcs, the 66^ 150, 168
Dumbarton Castle 212
Duns Scotus, Johannes 221 (2) ; Scotism
236, 249
Durer, Albrecht 9, 170
Diisseldorf: school of painting 31, 33
Dutton Lee 211, 225, 226
Dyne, Revd Dr John Bradley 10
Eaglesim, Thomas Arnot 138
Ecbatana 224
Edgell : see Wyatt-Edgell
Edgmond Hall, Shropshire 160
Edpvare 20
Edinburgh: H’s visit 213-14; Castle
214; Chapel Royal 214 ; Holyrood 2 1 4
Edinburgh, Duke and Duchess of 241
Edmiston, Mr 47, 51
Edmonton 153
Edward, Uncle: see Smith, E.
Edward the Confessor yo
Egremont, 3rd Earl of (‘Lord Egra-
mont’) 143
Egypt: early art 76
Eiger, mt. 174, 175
Eliot, George: Silas Marner 56; The Mill
on the Floss 56
Ellis, Robinson 16
Elsfield: church 23; views from 23;
oak on hill above 89
Elwy, river 258, 259
555
Ely Cathedral 14, j8yS; Lady-chapcl
188; Prior Crauden’s chapel i8d
Emmerich, Anne Catherine 795
Empedocles 130
England: conversion of 157; language
see Index III Words
Englefield Green 257
Epictetus 123
Escosura, Ignacio de Leon y 14^
Essex 252
Eubulus: quot. 31
Euripides 244, 284
Eversfield, Mr 146
Exe, river 251, 252
Exeter: H’s visit 253; Cathedral 233 j 256
Exeter College 19, 47
Eyre, Rt Revd Mgr : death 203
Fanny, Aunt: see Smith, Frances
Fau, Julien: Anatomie des formes 32
Faulhorn, mt. 775, 1 76
Fenians, the 133
Festus, Sextus Pornpeius 47
Fetis, Francois Joseph 238
Ffynnon-y-capel (Ffynnon Fair) 238
Fifeshire 71
Fincham, Dr 230
Finchampstead 49
Finchley 3; wood 144, 151
Finstcr Aarhorn, mt. iy6
Fitzgerald, Br 197, 198
Fitzsimon, Fr Christopher, SJ 7p7, 227
Fletcher, Miles Angus 136; cleath 218-
19
Florence : Baptistry gates (reproduction)
237
Flourens, Gustave: death 217
Fluclen 171
Foci, rnt. 238
Foley, Fr James, SJ 236
Folkestone 231
Forbes, A. P. : see Brechin, Bp of
Ford, Mr 167
Forster, William Edward 243
Fortescue, Revd Edward Bowles 77
France 143, 167; country from Geneva
to Paris 184; events in war with
Prussia 202-3, 217; language see
Index III Words
Frederick Charles of Prussia, Prince 202
Freeman, widow 1 54
Fremantle, Stephen James 159 (2)
French and Flemish exhibition (1866)
744, (1867) 749, (1868) 164
Freshwater 223
Friswell, J. Hain: Life Portraits of
William Shakespeare 56
Frognal 149
Froissart, General 202
Froissart, Jean 10
INDEX OF PERSONS AND PLAGES
556
Fuller, Thomas 48
Fulton, Miss: marriage 241
Furius: see Bibaculus
Fyffe, Charles Alan 55, 159
Fyficld 755
Gabelhorn, mt. i8o
Gainsborough, Thomas 245
Gallwey, Fr Peter, SJ igi, 193 (‘Father
Rector’), 227, 230, 232, 236 (‘tlie
Provincial’), 249 (‘the Provincial’)
Gambetta, Leon Michel 203
Gambier- Parry: see Parry, T. G.
Ganges, river 15
Gappath 754
Garibaldi, Giuseppe 203
Garnett, Richard: The Nix quot. 64^
777-14, 279 (‘arrowy Iser’)
Garrett, Alfred William 13d (2) ; with H
in Sussex 145 (2) ; visits H at Hamp-
stead 151; also 159, 166, 185 (2)
Garsington 138; church 138
Gartlan, Fr Ignatius, SJ 797, 243
Gasser (Swiss guide) 181
Gathorne-Hardy, Hon. Alfred Erskine
^ 9 ^ 55
Gay (surgeon) 229, 232
Gay, John 24; ballad quot. 274 (“Twas
when . . .’)
Geldart, Fidmund Martin 55, 50, 60, 135
Geldart, Ernest 77, 136
Geldarts, the 136
Gcllius, Aulus 19
Gelmer, waterfall 178
Geneva 184; Cathedral 184; lake 184
Gent, John 759
Geoponica: see Bassus
George, Uncle: see Giberne, G.
Gdrentc, Alfred 34
Germany: church windows 183; wet
summer 210, 213; priests from 236,
260; language see Index III Words
Gerume, Leon : ‘Gate of the Mosque El
Assaneyn* 749
Ghiberti, Lorenzo 297 (‘doors for
Cathedral of Florence by ?’)
Giberne, George, H’s uncle (‘Linde
George’) 14 (2)
Giessbach, waterfall 173
Giffard, Hardinge Stanley, later ist
Earl of Halsbury 218
Gillct, Fr Anselm 797
Gillett, Mr 23J
Giotto di Bonoone 168
Gladstone, John MacAdam 22g (2)
Gladstone, William Ewart 249; The
Vatican Decrees in their Bearings on Civil
Allegiance 262; Vaticanism 262
Glasgow 214; Cathedral 214
Glastonbury Abbey 24, 140
Gloucester 141 ; Cathedral 7^7
Goderich Castle: see Goodrich
Godshill 186
Godstow 135 (2), 139
Godwin, E. W. 256
Goethe, Johann Wolfgang von 26
Goldie, Fr Francis, SJ 797, 241
Goode, Very Revd William, Dean of
Ripon: Non^Episcopal Ordination 60
Goodrich (‘Goderich’) Castle, Here-
fordshire 140, 142
Gordon, Charles, General :portlrait of 142
Gordon, Fr Pedro Carlos, SJ ^99
Gomergrat, mt. 180, 181, 212 \
Grandison (‘Grandisson’), Jolin, Bp of
Exeter 253
Grant, Rt Revd Dr Thomasl Bp of
Southwark 202
Gray Thomas: Poems 35
Greece, ancient: trees 61; early art 76,
77; Plato and 1 15-17; language see
Index III Words
Green, Charles: ‘May it please your
Majesty’ 247
Green, Jane: epitaph 35
Green, Thomas Hill 775, 1 1 7 n
Greenhow, Edward 159
Greening, Mr 16
Greenock 213
Gresley, Revd William: A Short Treatise
on the English Church 95-36
Grimm, Hermann: Life of Michael
Angelo 60
Grimsel, river 177
Grindelwald 174; glacier 175, 176, 178
Grips (‘Gripps’), G. J. 149
Grisi, Giulia: death 202
Grose, Thomas Hodge 55
Grote, George: death 218
Groudle (Growdle, Growdale) 221, 235
Guerin, Maurice de: Remains 133
Gurney, Frederick 7, 23, 156
Gurney, Mrs Frederick (Alice Dcffell) :
death s66
Guttannen 177
Haldon 252, 255
Hall, Edward Kirkpatrick 137 (2)
Halle, Charles 166
Halsbury," Lord: see Giffard, H. S.
Hamble 215; river 214, 215
Hamilton, William : The Braes of Yarrow
quot. 278
Hamman, Edouard 149
Hampshire : H’s visit 214-15
Hampstead 20, 2i, 47, 66, 141, 144 *
*5L *59» 164* 185, 187, 188, ^ 4 ;
229, 240; West End 21; Oak Hm
'* 49 » *85; converzatione 164) Victoria
road 189
557
INDEX OF PERSONS AND PLAGES
Handcck, waterfall 177, 178
Hanwell 168
Hardy, A. E. : see Gathorne-Hardy
Harris (tradesman) 63
Harrises, the (William Harris and
family) i§6
Harrison (possibly W. A. D. Harrison) 59
Harrow 150
Hasely Court, Tetsworth 4^
Hawkins, Henry 2 j 8
Hayden, Mr 213
Hayes, Fr Stephen, SJ 550
Hay Tor 1 55
Healy, Mr: death 203
Hegel, Georg Wilhelm 1 19
Hemans, Felicia Dorothea: her house
S57
Hemy, Charles Napier: ‘Tete de
Flandre’ 767
Henderson, William: Folk Lore of the
Northern Counties of England and the
Borders 154 f 156
Hendon 20, 151
Hennessy, Pope 262
Herbert, Edward : murder of 202
Hereford: H’s visit 141 ; Cathedral 141
Herefordshire 140-1
Hergiswyl 171
Herodotus 49, 53
Hewet (‘Hewett’), John 24
Hewitt (solicitor) i6y
Hinkscy 133, 135
Hoare, Joseph 149
Hobday, Mr 47
Hodder Roughs 200, 233
Hodder Wood 206, 230, 231, 232
Hodges, Mrs Edward (Laura Smith),
H*s aunt (‘Aunt Laura’) 160
Hodges, Mildred 160
Hodges, the (Edward Hodges and
family) 166
Holbein, Hans: ‘Christ in the Tomb*
lyo; portraits by i86
Holland, Mrs William 60
Hollands, the (William Holland and
family) 143, 159
Holywell 261, 263
Homer 51; Iliads Pope’s trans. 24; —
quot. 2 S 2 (‘xoiA#f€Oi/ oOpavov*), 2 y 4 \
— , synezesis in 283, 288; Odyssey 17,
19,5/ (‘ylojTo^ayot’)
Honeybun, Mr 143, 242 (‘Hunnybun’)
Honyman (‘Honeyman’), Sir George
Essex 2s8
Hood, Henry John 55
H(^, A. J. BereSbrd, The English
Caitedral in the Nineteenth Century 36
Hopkins, Ann Eleanor, H’s aunt
(‘Aunt Annie*) 59, 60, 185, 188, 189,
214
Hopkins, Arthur, H’s brother //, 166;
marriage 231; visits H at Stony-
hurst 234; at water-colour exhibition
240
Hopkins, Mrs Arthur (Rebecca Bock-
ett) 231, 234; birth of daughter 242
Hopkins, Beatrice Muriel 242 (‘a
daughter’)
Hopkins, Charles Gordon, H’s uncle
(‘Uncle Charles’) j88; marriage 237
Hopkins, Mrs Charles (Helena de
Marcichy) 237
Hopkins, Cyril, H’s brother 21 (2);
writes to H 58, 137; at Oxford 138,
J395 'vith H at Richmond 153; boat-
ing 167; ‘poor Cyril’ 168; visits H at
Stonyhurst 2)[4, 226; at Liverpool
217, 221, 225; marriage 227; at
Hampstead 229
Hopkins, Mrs Cyril (Harriet Bockett)
227, 229
Hopkins, Edward Martin, H’s uncle
(‘Uncle Edward’) 16 (?), 50
Hopkins, Mrs Edward (Frances Ann
Beechey) 62
Hopkins, Gerard Manley
Biographical: {1B62) at school 3;
{1863) to Oxford {see Oxford Uni-
versity); {1864) at Hampstead 20, 21
{see Hampstead); {1863) in Devon-
shire 66; {1866) walking tour, Glas-
tonbury, &c. 1 40-1 ; at Blunt House,
Croydon 143', in Sussex 145-6; {1867)
in Paris 147-8; returns to London
149; birthday (age 23) 149; in
Devonshire 153-7; the Oratory
1 57 {see Oratory, Edgbaston) ; begins
teaching 158', {1868) returns home,
then to Croydon 159; at Edgmond
Hall 160; at the Oratory 160-4;
Roehampton 164-5 Manresa
House); returns to London 165; to
Oxford to take degree 166; in London
166-8; to Switzerland 168; in Italy
182; returns to London 184; to Ely
187; to the Novitiate, Roehampton
i8p; {166^70) at Roehampton 189-
200; {1870) to Stonyhurst Seminary
200 {see Stonyhurst); {1871) in Scot-
land 213-14; return to Stonyhurst,
then London 214; in Hampshire
2x4-17; to Stonyhurst 217; {1872) to
Isle of Man 221 ; at Stonyhurst 225-
9; Christmas at home 229; {1873) to
Roehampton, then Stonyhurst 230;
to Isle of Man 234; returns to Stony-
hurst 236; goes as teacher of rhetoric
to Manresa House 236; to Beaumont
Lodge 240; Christmas at home 240;
{1874) Roehampton 240-9; to
INDEX OF PERSONS AND PLACES
558
Hopkins, Gerard Manley {contd)
Biographical (contd ) :
Beaumont Lodge 249; in Devonshire
250-6; in Bristol, then Beaumont
Lodge 256; at Roehampton 257;
dines with Fathers at Westminster
257; to St Bcuno’s for theology 257
(see St Beuno’s College) ; (1874-5) in
Wales 258-63
Health'. (i868) ill in Switzerland
181; (1872) fever from a chill 227;
‘my old complaint’ 227; operation
229; (1873) ‘in pain and could not
look at things much’ 234; ‘hurried too
fast and it knocked me up’ 236; un-
well and downcast 236; (1874) ‘got
chilblains again’ 244; tired and cast
down 249-50.
Personal and spiritual'. (1885) ‘day of
the great Mercy of God’ 58 \ con-
fession 59; ‘little book of sins* 60; ‘if
ever I should leave the English
Church’ 71; ‘resolved to give up all
beauty until I had His leave for it’ 71 ;
Dolben’s letter ‘for which Glory to
God’ 71; confesses to Dr, Pusey 71;
(1866) resolutions for Lent 72; ‘sad
distracting scruple’ 137; confession
137; ‘things look sad and difficult’
137; burns parts of 1862 journal 138;
confession 140; ‘the impossibility of
staying in the Church of England’
146; speaks of this ‘foolishly’ 147;
(1867) retreat i63\ to Roehampton
into retreat 164', ‘decided to be a
priest’ 165; ‘doubtful between St.
Benedict and St. Ignatius’ 165; ceases
weather journal 189; long retreat
i8g; penance 190; retreat 191, 195;
emotion at a reading 195; ‘took my
vows’ 200; *2L new witness to God*
200; retreat 214; confession 216;
‘a time of trial’ 218; (1872) retreat
226; (1873) ‘wished to die and not see
the inscap>es of the world destroyed’
230; triduum 230, 232; renovation of
vows 232 ; examined de universa philo-
sophia 232; retreat 236; meditation
papers 236; menstruum 240; (1874)
triduum 248; penance 249; ‘my
heart opening more than usual’ 254;
‘began to feel a desire to do something
for the conversion of Wales’ 258;
learning Welsh 258, 263; ‘my music
seemed to come to an end* 258;
‘feeling the weariness of life* 258;
retreat 259; notes of meditation 259;
‘by God’s mercy deeply touched*
260; ‘wonder at the bounty of God’
261
Hopkins, Gerard Manley (contd)
Poetry: notes for poetry 46 r^.
‘made my resolution’ (to destroy
poems) 152, 164, 165; writes Greek
iambics for an Academy 227
Poems quot. with title: By Mn
Hopley 37; Daphne 68; Love preparing
to fly 31; New Readings 32; Rainbow,
The 39; Rest 33 ; To Oxford 63. Refs to
poems since published: 26, 28, 31-2-
3-4-5. 37. 38, 44 . 46-7-B--9. 5 ^ 1-2
Sketching: at Elsficld 23 ^at Fyfield
135; at Finchley 151; in Devonshire
155; at Croydon 165; in Svyitzerlancl
177; notes for sketches 77, 43, 47,
65 ; also 207, 235
Hopkins, Gertrude Frederica, H’s
cousin 20, 53, 166
Hopkins, Grace, H’s sister 72, 13a
(? ‘Pulkic’), 216
Hopkins, Kate : see Hopkins, Mrs T. M.
Hopkins, Kate, H’s sister 71 (‘Katie’),
I3(j(^ ‘Pilkic’)
Hopkins, Lionel Charles, H’s brother
21. 150, 151, 152; to Peking 241
Hopkins, Manley, H’s father (‘Papa’
except 214 ‘my father’) 34, 59, 61 ; on
bank failure 136, 139; to Brittany
152; winds up Mrs Thwaites’ afiairs
7^7; also 214
Hopkins, Mrs Manley (Kate Smith),
H’s mother (‘Mamma’ except 214,
216 ‘my mother’) 16; letter to H 77;
book for 57; to Brittany 152; at
Bursledon 214, 216; also 166
Hopkins, Mrs Martin Edward (Ann
Manley), H’s grandmother (‘Grand-
mamma’) 26y 188, 214; birthday 228
Hopkins, Milicent, H’s sister: her piano
playing 143, 149; to Brittany 152;
also 166, 214
Hopkins, Roger 251
Hopkins, Mrs Thomas Marsland (Ka-
therine Hannah Beechey), H’s aunt
(‘Aunt Kate’, ‘Aunt Katie’) 59, 60;
visits H at Oxford 138, 139; visited
by H 149, 152, 159 (2), 164, 168, 187-,
dines at Hampstead 229
Horace: Qdes quot. 75 (‘Virginibus
. . .’); — , Sapphic lines quot. 281,
282 (‘Jam satis . . .*), 282 (‘Dives ...’),
282 (‘Nuntium . . .*) ; use of accent
281
Horsham 145 (2)
Hostage, Br Joseph 228
Hound (‘Houn’) Tor 155
House of Mercy, Bovey Tracey 156
Howard, George Bradley: The Chris-
turns of St Thomas 36
Hugcl, Anatole von, Baron 234 (2)
559
OY places
Hughes, Mr 262 W
Hughes, Arthur 142; ‘The Convent
Boat’ 247
Hume, David 119
Hunnybun, Mr: see Honey bun
Hunt, Holman 30; ‘The Shadow of
Death’ 245 , 246
Hurst Green 208
Husbands, the (Thomas Matthew Hus-
band and family) 168
Hyde Park 152, 186, 187
iffley 17; church 17
Ignatius, St (Ignatius de Loyola) 163;
Feast of 234, 249; rules of election 238
Ilbert, Courtenay Peregrine 134
Ilsinglon: church 156
India 19
Indian 213, 214
Ingelow, Jean: Divided quot. 79
Ings, Miss 146
Ings (Tng’), Henry 143
Ingsdon 756'
Interlaken 173
Inverary 213
Ipsampul: rock temple 77
Ireland: football and fairies 197; ex-
pressions 198-g, 243; language 221;
cankers on rose bushes 226; also
213
Isabella, Queen 202
Isis, river 24
Islington: horse show 166
Islip 62
Italy: trees in ancient 61 ; poor in 157
H in 182
Jacob, Edgar 159
Jacobs, Sarah (‘fasting girl’) 202
Jacoby, Herr 203
James, Uncle: see Birkctt, J.
Jayne, Francis John 159
Jazzi (‘Jazi’), Cima di 181
Jeffrey Hill 213, 230
Jesus Christ: vision of our Lord 154;
‘our Lord goes his own way’ 250
Jcunc, Francis Henry 218
John, Fr 161, 177
Johnson (‘Johnsonc’), Edward Killing-
worth: genre paintings 142
Johnson, Fr Joseph, SJ 244, 247, 249
Jones, Fr James, SJ 167, 226 257, 258
(‘the Rector’)
Jones, Susannah 263
Jonghc, Gustave Leonhard de 749
Jopling, Mrs (Louise Goode): ‘Five
O’clock Tea* 247
Joseph, Fr 161
Joweti, Benjamin 16 (3), 53 (2), 55;
holds forth about proportion 136
Jumeaux, mts 180, 181
Jungfrau, mt. 174 (2)
Juvenal: 5 fl/.quot. 49
Kalidasa ; Sakoontala 36
Karslake, Lewis 76', 138
Keats, John: portraits of 9, 186; Ode to
Psyche 51 ; De Quincey on 32; unlaw-
ful rhymes 286'
Keble, John 60
Kemble End 204, 231
Kennedy, Mr 219
Kennington 22
Kensington Museum: see South Ken-
sington
Kent, Arthur: cured at Holywell 261
Kenton 150
Ken (‘Caen’) Wood 29, 168 (2)
Kerr, Henry Schomberg 273, 257 (2),
262 (2)
Kerr, Fr William Hobart, SJ /po, 257
Kew Gardens 192, 243, 248; Old Palace
,243
Kingsbury 20, 21, 150
King’s Kcrswell 156 (2)
Kingsley, Charles 15; death 262
Kingsteignton 250
Knight, Charles 10 (2)
Knighton Hcathficlds 154
Knowles, Mr 249
Kiissnacht 170
Lacordairc, Jean Baptiste 36
La Fontaine, Jean de : Fables quot. 279
(‘A la porte . . .’)
Lagye, Victor 744; ‘Faust and Mar-
guerite’ 149
Lake, Herbert John 53, 59
Lamb, Charles 133
Lambinet, Emile Charles: landscapes
^49
Lambing Clough 234
Lameire, Charles Joseph : ‘Catholicon’
166
Lancashire 225; dialect see Index III
Words
Landelle, Charles: ‘Fellah woman’ 749
Landor, Walter Savage 60
Lane, Clara 9, 47
Lane, Richard James, H’s great-uncle
(‘Uncle Dick’) : death 228
Langland, William : Piers Plowman quot.
277 \ — , alliteration 284
Lansdownc, Henry Petty-Fitzmaurice,
5th Marquis of 1 59
Lauterbrunnen 173
Laval: Jesuit house at 237
Lavington (West Lavington): church
60, H 5 ,
Law, Fr Thomas Graves 249
INDEX OF PERSONS AND PLAGES
560
Laxey 221; waterwheel 223; glen 223,
225
Leach, Mrs 54
Leach, Richard Howell 50, 53
Leamington 49, 59
Lee, Revd Dr F. G.: Twenty-one Sermons
on the Re-union of Christendom yo
Legros, Alphonse: ‘Sir Thomas More
showing some of Holbein’s pictures to
Henry VIII’ i6y, ‘The Refectory’
i6y
Leicester 60
Leighton, Frederic Leighton, ist
Baron: ‘Acme and Septimius’ j6y\
‘Actaea’ i6y\ ‘Ariadne’ i6y\ ‘Glytem-
naestra watching the beaconfires’
246', ‘Jonathan’s token to David* 167;
‘Moorish Garden: a dream of
Granada’ 245^ ‘Old Damascus: Jews’
Quarter* 246] ‘Syracusan Bride, A*
7^3; also 149, 244
Lentaigne, Mr 212, 213
L^on y Escosura: see Escosura
Leslie, Henry: his concert 166
Leslie, Fr William Eric, SJ 214
Lessing, Gotthold Ephraim 85
L’Estrange, H. Styleman 188
Leopold, Mme: her concert i6y-8
L6vy, fimile I4g
Lewis, Fr David 249
Leys, Jean Auguste Henri, Baron 55,
144, 148', ‘The Proposal* 149; histori-
cal picture 167
Liddell, Very Revd Henry George,
Dean of Christ Church 6
Liddes 183
Liddon, Revd Dr Henry Parry 94, 55;
tracts 59; Bampton lectures 755,
138
Lilleshall Abbey, Shropshire 160
Lillywhite, Fred (‘Lilius Candens’) 6*n
Lincoln 9
Lincoln College 47
Little Mearley Hall 227
Liverpool 213, 214 (2), 221, 225, 236,
261
Livy 49, 289
Llangollen 34
Lloyd, Catherine 59, 139
Lloyd, Edward : murder of 202
Locke, John: The Conduct of the Under-
standing quot. 77 {pudder), 79; ‘when
as* 22
Lockhart, Fr William 795
London: Irish lad in 187; State entry
into 241 ; smoke 256; Alexandra
Palace 750; Austin Friars 49; Bishops-
gate street 49, 140; Crystal Palace
799; Holborn 255; Hyde Park 152,
186, 187; Kensal Green 195; Ken-
London {contd)
sington 62; Muswell Hill 150 (2);
Netting Hill 195; Oxford street 187;
Queen’s theatre {q,v.) ; Regent’s Park
185; Soho 185; Stoke Newington 25;
Westbourne Villas 149, 159
See also Croydon, Hampstead, Kew
Gardens, Richmond
Churches: All Saints’, Margaret
Street 34, 248, 255; Austin Friars, in
49; St Alban’s 255; St Ethelburga’s
I40\ St Francis’ (‘FrRawes* church’)
795; St Mary’s, Mapler curacy at
i83\ St Mary Magdalene’s (‘Mr
West’s church’) i8y \
Museums y galleries: see French and
Flemish, Old Masters, Royal Aca-
demy, Soane’s, South Kensington,
Water Colours \
London Oratory: see Oratory\
Longfellow, Henry Wadsworth: Hia-
watha 274
Longridge Fell 2 1 3
Lome, John Campbell, Marquis of
(later 9th Duke of Argyll) 213
Louis Napoleon: see Napoleon III
Louise, Princess 213
Louis Philippe 73
Lovell, George Francis 16
Lowe, Robert, M.P. 249
Luca della Robbia 237
Lucan: Phar, quot. 57 (‘Nec licuit . . .*)
Lucas, Fr Herbert, SJ 228y 231, 236
Lucas, Vrain-Denis (forger) 202
Lucerne 169, 170-1
Lucretius : De Re. Nat. quot. 44
Ludwig, Carl: landscape 149
Lungern 171
Lutschine, valley 173
Lyall, Charles James 16, 55
Lynch, John 234
Lyskamm, mt. 180, 182
Macbeth, Robert Walker 240; ‘Phillis
on the new-made hay’ 244
M’Cann (‘Maccann’), Fr Henry, SJ 22y
MacCarthy, Denis Florence: transla-
tions from Spanish 284
Macclesfield 229
Macferlane, William Alexander Comyn
J 7 » 55 (2), ^3^ (‘M’Farlane’), 146,
H 7
Maclaren, Mr: ‘Debutante Walz’ 195
Maclarcn, Walter: ‘Girls playing at
knuckle-bones’ 24y
Maclauren, Mr 203
MacLeod (‘Mac Cleod’), Fr John
George 240
Maclise, Daniel : death 202
Macloughlen, Mr 237
INDEX OF PERSONS AND PLACES
Madan, Henry George ig
Madan^ James Russell 76“, 55
Madcrna, Stephano: statue of St
Cecilia 254
Maentwrog 34, 35
Magdalen College 19, 47, 60; walks
136; meadow 137; tower 192
Magri, Br 259 (2)
Mainz 169
Malone, Edmund 10
Man, Isle of 213; H’s visits to 221-5,
234-6; language 221 ; map 547
Manaton 155; church 155
Manchester 232
Manning, Most Revd Henry Edward,
Cardinal Archbp of Westminster 71,
262
Manresa House (usually ‘Roehamp-
ton*): retreat at 1641 H enters the
Novitiate i8g\ farm at 79^; St
Aloysius’ walk ig2', H in office of
porter 193; ‘a secretis’ ig4\ St
Joseph’s church ig6, 199; effect of
thunderstorm at 22 1 ; H goes to teach
rhetoric at 236; schools 249; also 229,
230* 257, 260, 262; Rector of, see
Gallwey, Fr P.
Manteca, Andrea 168; *The Triumph
of Scipio* 241 ; ‘Virgin and Child with
St John the Baptist and Magdalen*
241
Manzoni, Alessandro; I Promessi Sposi 5
Maples, Revd Frederick George 185
Marchant, Fr Henry, SJ 22g
Marcichy, Helena Marian de : see Hop-
kins, Mrs Charles
Marcichy, Mark Coindet de 237
Maret, Rt Revd Mgr Hugues Bernard,
Bp of Sura 210
Markheim, Henry William 1 59
Marlow 167
Marsh, George Perkins; Lectures on the
English Language 284, 287
Marshall, Bp of Exeter; tomb 253
Marshall, Mr 55
Marston 17
Martigny 183 (4)
Mary, the Blessed Virgin; image broken
197; devotion to 199
Marychurch 254
Mason, George Heming 167, 237;
‘Evening Hymn* 167
Matterhorn; Great 180 (2), 182 (2);
Little 180
May, Louisa 55
Mayiield: Archbp’s palace 14
Mazoyer, Mr 217
Mazzini, Giuseppe 202
Meissonier, Jean Louis; ‘The Smoker*
149
B 6628
561
Mela, Mile 167
Melissus of Samos; quot. 130
Meredith, George; Emilia in England 56
(‘Emilia’)
Merlon College; chapel 14, 59; new
buildings 21 ; also 47, 159
Mettemberg, mt. 175
Meyringen 176 (2), 177
Michael Angelo (Michelangelo Buo-
narotti) : Grimm’s Life 60 \ his
realism, Vatican paintings 237 \ ‘The
Entombment* 241 ; ‘Virgin and Child
with St John and Angels* 241
Michell, fcchard Brooke; Dantis exsili-
um^ prize poem 63
Midhurst 145
Millais, Sir John Everett 30, 144
Paintings: ‘Daydream’ 245 , 248;
‘North-West Passage, The* 2451 ‘Pic-
ture of Health, The* 245; ‘Pilgrims to
St Paul’s* 167; ‘Rosalind and Celia*
167 \ ‘Scotch Firs* 244^ ‘Sisters’ 767;
‘Souvenir of Velasquez* 767; ‘Stella*
767; ‘Walter, son of Nathaniel Roths-
child, Esq., M.P.* 245\ ‘Winter Fuel*
244
Milman, Very Revd Henry Hart, Dean
of St Paul’s 38, 60y 112
Milton, John 9; Paradise Lost 38; —
quot. 280 (‘Of that forbidden ...*);
Paradise Regained 38; — , accentual
counterpoint 282 (‘Home to His . . .*)
Mischabel, mt. 180
Mitton; bells 218; also 227, 232
Moel y Parch 262
Monmouth 140
Monro, Charles Hale 136
Monros, the 756*
Montagu, Lord Robert : Expostulation in
Extremis 262
Montalembert, Charles Forbes, comte
de: death 202
Montauban : see Cousin-Montauban
Monte Rosa 180, i8i (2), 182, 212
Moore, Albert Joseph: ‘Azaleas* 167
Moore, Henry 166; ‘Rough weather in
the open, Mediterranean* 247
Morionez, Domingo, General 241
Morris, Fr John, SJ 797, 258
Morris, John Brande 243
Morris, William 60
Morrises, the 156
Morte Arthur, Le 56
Muirhead, Lionel Boulton 16, 4g
(Hasely Court his home), 54, 55, isg
Miillcr, Friedrich Max 36
Miillhcim 169
Mulready, William 237
Munster Cathedral 21
Murphy, Fr Thomas, SJ 237, 259
pp
INDEX OF PERSONS AND PLACES
56a
Murrcn 174
Mycrscough, John 231
Mynefyr, hill 257
Nadar (Felix Toumachon) : his balloon
148
Nankin 48
Napier’s shipbuilding yard 214
Napoleon III, Emperor 75, 146, 203
Nash, Thomas 755
National Gallery i6i9, S41, 257
National Portraits exhibition (1867)
757, (1868) 186
Nelthorpe, Mr: his park 146 (2)
Netley: Abbey 275; Hospital 216
Nettleship, Richard Lewis 7^7
New, Fr John, SJ 2ig
New College 19, 21, 86
Newdegate (‘Newdigate’), Charles N.,
M.P. 24g
Newhaven 148, 184
Newman, Captain 200
Newman, Most Revd Dr John Henry,
Cardinal 60; ‘Lead, kindly light*
71; his style 76; to the Oratory
from Rednal 1^8 (‘Father*) ; birthday
161; preaches at the Oratory 164
(‘Father*) ; A Letter , . , on the Occasion
of Mr Gladstone's recent Expostulation
262
Newman, William Lambert jj, 78 n
Newnham 25
Newport, Bp of: see Brown T. J.
Newton Abbot 156 (2), 157, 250, 252
Nicholl (‘Nicol’), Prof, J. P.jj
Niclas, N., ed. Geoponica 34
Nicols (‘Nichols’), Revd David C. 165
Noir, Victor: death 202
Norris’s market gardens 197
North Barrule 235
Norwich Cathedral (‘ . . . Cathedral*) :
miserere seat 25
Nuthurst 145
Nyanza, Lake 2X
Oakeley (‘Oakley’), Canon Frederick
71
Oak Hill: see Hampstead
O’Connor, M. 34
Odysseus 18, 19
Ogle, Hannan Chaloner ig
O’Hanlon, Hugh Francis: suicide 759
Old Masters’ exhibition (1873) 230
Oliphant, Margaret: Chronicles of Car^
ling ford 36
Olivain, Fr : murder of 2 1 x
OUivier, Smile: his cabinet resigns 202
Onchan Church 22 x
O’Neill, Br Richard: death 260
Oppian: Cynegetica quot. 4
Oratory, Edgbaston: H at 157-9,
X60-4; ‘cold feeling’ 219
Oratory, London 2x9 (‘the two Ora-
tories’), 249
Orms’ Heads, the 261
Orsi^res: spired tower 183
Orton, Arthur (Tichborne claimant)
:?77, 241
Ostend 168
Ottery St Mary: church 59; Pixies’
Parlour 156
Overbeck, Johann Friedrich 3^2
Overend, Gurney & Co., bankers 136
Ovid: name for clematis qi; use of
accent 281 \
Works: Art of Love 7; Fflj^iquot. 281
(‘Lapsaque . . .’), 262 (‘(qujus non
...*); Metamorphoses quot. 163 (‘facies
non . . .*); Remedia Amoris duot. 282
(‘Cum mala . . .’)
Oxenham, Henry Nutcombe 57, 135
Oxford : Abingdon road 22 (2) ; Apple-
ton road 137; beating parish bounds
T36; Clarendon hotel 136; Heading-
ton Hill road 17; New Inn Hall 23,
133 (street); Randolph hotel 136;
Seven Bridge road 134; Witney road
22, 24, 133; map 544
Churches: St Mary’s 14; St
Michael’s 136; St Philip’s i33i St
Thomas’ 138
Oxford University: B.H.T. 77; Bodleian
Library 21; breakfast parties 76, 55;
Commemoration 759; degree, class
list 759; — , H takes 166; Greats
books 49; Hexameron 79 (‘new
names’), 58, 133; lecture lists 16, 22,
53» 54; lodgings, H’s 133; Newdigate
prize 20; places to show (‘New
College . . ,’) 21 \ poetry 23; poets 60;
rat-hunt 799; St Alban’s Hall 7
(‘Alban Hall’) ; Sheldonian Theatre,
crowd in 799; Union 54, 60, 61, 97;
also 158
Colleges: see separate entries
Paladine, Aurelles de, General 203
Palmer, Revd Edwin 7^, 16 (5); sermon
53
PapahStates 203
Paravicini, Francis dc, Baron 16 (2)
Paris: H in 147-8, 184; Exposition 747,
X48 (2); siege 203; Commune 210,
2x7; murder of the hostages 210;
surrender 217; storm 230
Hdtel de Saxe 747; H6tel du P6ri-
gord 747; Louvre 148; Madeleine
148, 2x0; Notre Dame 148; St
Eustache, church 148; St Roch,
church X48; Tuileries 21 x
INDEX OF PERSONS AND PLACES 563
Paris, Most Revd Georges Darboy,
Archbp of 210, 217
Parker, John: ‘Abbey Stream, Abing-
don* ‘Phoebe Dawson’ 247
Parliament: general election 241;
House of Lords 202, 217, 248', House
of Commons 249
Parlock Pike (also ‘Parlick Ridge’) 213,
217,228,231,236
Parmenides : fragments quot. and
examined /^y-so
Parry, Thomas Gambier 6b, 188
Parthenon 78, 172, 242
Pater, Walter 8o\ H coached by 133;
talks against Christianity 138: H
lunches with 167
Patmore, Coventry: The Children's Gar-
land 1 1 1 ; H reads his poems 133
Patrick, St 224
Pau 262
Payne, Mr 21
Pease, Mr 181
Peebles, Mr 167
Peel: Castle 223, 224; St German’s
Cathedral 224
Peking 241
Pembroke College 60
Pendle Hill 201, 205, 206, 208, 210,
226 (2), 229, 231, 232
Pendraith, Mrs 200
Perry, Mr 143
Perry, Fr Stephen Joseph, SJ 228
Persia, Shah of 232
Pclworth 145
Peyrat, Napoleon: Rdformateurs de la
France et de ITtalie au i2e Slide yi
Phillimore, W. G. F. 159
Philps, Mr 55
Pietro, Fr J. B. di 261
Pilatus, mt. lyi
Pindar: Fragments quot. 1 1
Pinwell, George John: ‘Pied Piper’ 164;
‘Princess and Ploughman’ 240
Piozzi, Mrs (Mrs Thralc) 257
Pisano, Giovanni di Niccolo 237
Pisano, Niccola 237
Pius IX (‘the Pope’) 159, 165, 218
Plato: Republic 49, 53; Stallbaum’s 54;
in relation to the Greek world 1 1 5-
17; also II, 107, 119, 127 (2)
Pliny the Elder 48, 62
Plow, Revd Antony John : murder of 163
Plow, Mrs Antony John (Harriet
Bridges) : death 190
Plumley 154, 756
Plummer, Alfred 79, 47, 55, 163
Plutarch 1 1 , 49
Plymouth, Bp of: see Vaughan, W.
Poe, Edgar Allan: The Raven quot. 274
(‘Ah distinctly . . ,*)
Politian (Angelo Poliziano) 50
Pooley, Mr 262
Pope, Alexander 24, 38, 105
Porter, Fr George, SJ 236^ 241, 247
(‘Fr Rector’) ; at Carlsbad 244
Port Erin 224
Port Skillion (‘Fort Hillion’) 234
Port Soderick 225 (2)
Potter, Mr 239
Poutiatine: see Putyatin
Powder Hill 134
Poyntcr, Sir Edward John: ‘The
Catapult’ 167
Prance (surgeon) 223
Preraphaelitc Brotherhood 50, 31, 79
Preston: procession 210; factory girl at
220; also 236
Prichard (also ‘Pritchard’), Revd
Constantine 60, 141
Prim, Juan, General 217
Prinsep, Valentine Cameron: ‘La Festa
di Lido* 742; portrait of Gordon 742;
also 167
Propertius 281
Pulci, Luigi 287
Puller, Christopher Gholmeley 133
Purbrick, Fr Edward, SJ (‘Fr Rector’)
225
Purbrick, Fr James, SJ 234, 257, 261
Pusey, Revd Dr Edward Bouverie:
lectures 76; Daniel the Prophet 60;
sermons 60; H confesses to 71;
Eirenicon (‘recent work’) 71 ; preaches
137
Putyatin (‘Poutiatine’), Basil 148, 159;
death 229
Putyatin, Evfimy Vasil’evich, Count
(‘the Admiral’) 148 (2), 229
Queen’s College 1 9
Queen’s Theatre 759 (‘Wigan’s theatre’) ,
166
Quintilian: quot. 51 (‘Jupiter . . .’)
Quivil, Peter de. Bp of Exeter 253
Ramsey 222
Rance, A. J. Bouthillier de 218
Raphael Santi 9; Cartoons 237; The
Transfiguration (copy) 237
Ratcliff, Mr 224, 232, 239
Raven, John Samuel: ‘Midsummer
Moonlight’ 142; ‘Let the hills be
joyful together’ 247
Rawes, Fr Henry Augustus 795
Raynal, Dom Paul Wilfrid (‘a French-
man’) 747
Reading 2 1 7
Redi, Francesco 287
Redington, Christopher Thomas 759
Rednal 158 (3)
INDEX OF PERSONS AND PLACES
564
Ree Deep 225, 234
Reeves, J. Sims 166
Regent’s Park 185
Reichenbach, river 176; falls 777
Reid, R. 54
Reiss, Frederick Augustus g
Rejected Addresses: see Smith, J. and H.
Rembrandt 245
Rethel, Alfred 32
Reuss, river 170
Reynolds, Sir Joshua 108, 245
Rhine, river 169
Rhone, river: glacier 178-g; valley 179;
plain 184
Rhuallt, mt. 261, 263
Ribadaneira, Fr Pedro de, SJ igg
Ribblesdalc 261
Richmond, river at 153; Park (‘the
Park’) 165, 189, 790, 192, 195, 199,
243
Richmond, Charles Gordon-Lennox,
6th Duke of 202, 248
Richmond, Sir William Blake: ‘Prome-
theus Bound’ 247
Rickaby, Br John igr
Rickaby, Fr Joseph, SJ 260, 261
Riddell, Revd James 16 (3)
Riffel, mt, 180
Rigi, mt. lyOy 171
Ripon, George Robinson, ist Marquis
of 258
Ritchie, Lady : see Thackeray, Anne
Riviere, Briton: ‘Apollo’ 244
Rivington, Eustace 8
Rodwell, Revd J. M. (‘rector of St
Ethelburga’s’) 140
Roehampton: felling of trees 240. See
also Manresa House
Rome 56, 201, 203
Rosenberg, George F. 142
Rosenlaui, Baths of 176
Rossberg, mt, 170
Rossetti, Christina 30; frontispiece to
Goblin Market 103; The Prince's Pro-
gress 140; ‘My heart is like a singing
bird’ 142; use of assonance 287
Rossetti, Dante Gabriel 30 (2); 7 'he
Blessed Damosel 38; etching 103
Ross-on-Wye 140, 141 (2)
Rothhorn, mt. 180
Rottingdean (‘Rothingdean’) 153
Roupell (‘Roupel’), William ^7
Rover, a dog 7^7
Rowridge ^
Royal Academy 31, 98, 99; exhibition
(1866) 143-3 ; — ( 1 868) 767 ; — (1874)
S44-7
Rubens, Peter Paul 237
Ruip6rez (‘Ruiperes’), Luis: genre
painting i4g
Runnymede 256
Ruskin, John 13; Modern Painters 56; on
Turner 215
Russell, Herbert David 138', death 138
Ruthin 258
Rymer, Frederick: death 262
Saddle Hill 232
Sadowa, battle 145
St Alban’s Cathedral 188-7
St Alban’s Hall (‘Alban Hall’) 7
St Asaph 257 (2) ; Cathedral 257, 260
St Bernard Hospice 183 j
St Beuno’s College 227; H m ^ 57 " ^ 3 5
inaugural address at 260; Rector of,
Jones, FrJ.; map 548 \
St Cloud 148
St German’s Cathedral: see Pe^
St John’s College 19 (2), 21
St Niclaus 1 79 \
St Petersburg 148
St Rhemy (‘St Remy’) 183
St Theodule: see Thcodule
St Triman (‘Kirk Trinnian’), ruined
chapt'l 224
St Winefred’s Well 157, 258
Sakoontala: see Kalidasa
Salford, Bp of: see Turner (Dr),
Vaughan (H. A.)
Salisbury: Breviary 70; Cathedral 2 14
Sanday, William 34
Sandford 135
Sandon, Dudley Ryder, Viscount (later
3rd Eai 1 of Harrowby) 24g
Sandys, Frederick: ‘Study of a Head’
167
Sangalli, Fr 797
Sarnen, lake 171
Sauley Abbey 207, 227
Savonarola, Girolamo 55
Scanlan, Br: death 241
Scarborough 72
Scheidegg, Little 174
Schlegels (Auguste von S. and Friedrich
von S.) 26
Schreckhorn, mt. 175
Schumann, Robert 149, 168
Scilly Isles 200
Scotland: H’s visit 213-14; speech 5, ii
Scott, Sir Gilbert : restoration of Exeter
Cathedral 233
Scott, Robert (‘Robert the Scot’) 6‘n
Scriven, Mr 232, 234
Scupoli, Lawrence : The Spiritual Combat
56
Seddon, John P. 32
Seine, river 147, 148 (‘the river’)
Selly Oak: Convent of St Paul 162
Sembranchier: tower 183
Sens Cathedral 27
INDEX OF PERSONS AND PLACES
565
Servius 4
Seville: man blaspheming in 199
Sfax 46
Shairp, John Campbell: Wordsworth:
The Man and the Poet 60
Shakespeare (‘Shakspere’) , William:
tercentenary 134; instances of rest
275; antispast 275; also 9, 107, 115
Plays : As Tou Like It quot. 278 (‘Why
should Hamlet quot. 12 (‘I know
a hawk . . .*), 114 (‘Unhouseled
— also 36; Henry V quot. 51 ; — also
35» 56; Henry VI 35, 56; Henry VIII
35, 56; King Lear quot. 16 (‘gallow’);
Love's Labour's Lost quot. 278 (‘Thou
for whom . . .’); Macbeth quot. 2y8
(‘Toad — also 8; Merchant of
Venice quot. 1 1 ; Midsummer Night's
Dream quot. 2^4 (‘Now the hungry
...’); Richard III quot. 279 (‘In the
deep . . .*); — also 35, 56; Sonnets
quot. 83 (‘So I am — also 98;
Tempest quot. 148 (‘blue bow’), j6g
(‘blue bow’), 231 (‘Under the
blossom . . .’) ; — also 96; Twelfth
Night quot. and examined 9-/0, j6
Shanklin 157, 165, 170
Shapter, Fr William, SJ 22g, 234
Shap Tor 153, 156
Sharpe, Samuel 54
Shaw, James 21 1
Shelley, Percy Bysshe 9, 60, 186
Poems'. Adonais 107; Lines written
among the Euganean Hills 98; ‘Music
when soft voices die* quot. and
examined 95, 99, 100, 109-10, iii;
The Pine Forest {^Pine-grove') of the
Cascine ig
Shepherd, Mrs 71
Shoolbred, Br 191
Shotover 137
Shrewsbury, Rt Revd James Brown,
Bp of 25g
Shropshire: dialect 160
Shrubs of the Ancients: see Daubeny
Sicily 61
Sidgreaves, Fr Edward igi, 235
Silberhorn, mt. 1^4 (2)
Silva, Mr 214
Simcox, George Augustus igg, 262
Simeon, Sir John: death 202
Simeon, Philip Barrington 138
Simplicius i28n
Singland, Co. Limerick 197
Sion House: ghosts in 197
Sircom, Sebastian 234
Skene, Felicia M. F. ; The Divine Master
60
Skinner’s Weir 24, 133, 134
Skrine, Henry Mills 16
Slattery, Br 198
Smallficld, Frederick: water-colours
no, 142
Smedlcy, Menella Bute: Lays and
Ballads 5
Smet, Fr Pierre Jean de, SJ 2ig
Smith, Edward, H’s uncle (‘Uncle
Edward’) 16 (?), 159, 247
Smith, Frances, H’s aunt (‘Aunt
Fanny’) 44, 47, 50
Smith, James and Horace: Rejected Ad-
dresses 285, 286
Smith, John Simm, H’s uncle (‘Uncle
John’) 159, 217, 226
Smith, Dr John Simm, H’s grandfather
(‘Grandpapa’) 136, 139, 151
Smith, Mrs John Simm (Maria Hodges),
H’s grandmother (‘Grandmamma
Smith’) 139, 143
Smith, Laura: see Hodges, Mrs E.
Smith, Charles MoncriefT (Fr Dominic)
187
Smith, Simm, H’s cousin 141
Smith, Fr Sydney Fcnn, SJ 232
Snae Fell 225, 234
Snorri Sturlason: Hattatal quot. 287 (2)
Snowdon, mt. 258, 262
Soane Museum 241
Socrates 117, 127
Solomon, Simeon 166, 167
Sophocles 78; Ajax quot. 124', Oedipus
Coloneus 242'y Oedipus Tyrannus qaot. 26
Southampton 216
Southey, Robert 60; The Curse of
Kehama 282
South Kensington Museum 15/, 257-8,
242
Spain 167, 191, 199, 217
Sparrow, William John 138
Speichern, battle 202
Speke, John Hanning: Discovery of the
Nile quot. 21
Spencer (‘Spenser’), Fr Thomas 137
Spenser, Edmund : The Faery Queen 38,
49; — quot. 281 (‘Wrapt in . . .*)
Spinoza, Bcnediclus de 121
Spiritual Combat, The: see Scupoli, L.
Splaine, Fr Cyprian, SJ 226
Splaine, Fr William 261
Spooner, Archibald 33
Stafford 229
Staflbrd, Charles Egerton rg
Stanton, William : death 226
Stanton (‘Staunton’) Harcourt: church
23; manor-house 24
Starkey, Br Henry 228
Statius: Achilleid 49
Staubbach, waterfall 173^ 174
Steevens, George 10
Stevens, Alfred J48, 149
INDEX OF PERSONS AND PLACES
566
Stocks, John Edward 757, 1 59
Stokes, John Scott 158, 162
Stonyhurst College and Seminary
(sometimes ‘the College’) : H to 200;
H at 208, 212, 213, 217, 225, 227,
230; School of Rhetoric 232; water at
235; concert and jokes at 236; church
at 252; also 226, 241, 260; Rector of,
see Porter, Fr G.; map 546
Story, Miss 55, 52
Strachan-Davidson, James Leigh 4g
Strachey, Alexander 5
Strappini, Mr 231
Strasbourg 229
Street, George Edmund 140; church
built by 187 'y work on Bristol Cathe-
dral 256
Streets, the (G. E. Street and family)
H3
Stromboli 46
Surrey, Lord : portrait of 186
Sussex 14; H’s visit 145-7
Sutton, Mr 226
Sweet, Mr, Mrs, and Miss 139
Sweetman, Mr 220
Swinburne, Algernon Charles: H sees
166
Switzerland 4; H’s visit 168-84; houses
in 1 71, 173, 182; Catholics in 177;
churches in 179; church-windows 183
Tacitus 49
Tadema: see Alma-Tadema
Tanganyika, lake 21
Tasso, Torquato; Gerusalemme Liberata
quot. 27g (‘Canto . . .’)
Taylor, Jeremy 10; Holy Living 30
Tebbitts, the (Mrs Tebbitt’s two chil-
dren) 767
Teign, river 154, 250, 251 (2), 252 (3)
Teignmouth 250 (2), 251; St Scolas-
tica’s Abbey 256 (‘Benedictine con-
vent’)
Tennyson, Alfred, ist Baron 9, 96, 107;
Enoch Arden 38; The Beggar Maid,
imperfect rhymes 283
Tetsworth 49
Thackeray, Anne, Lady Ritchie: The
Story of EUzctbeth 36; Cinderella 140;
The Village on the Cliff 240
Thackeray, William Makepeace: Vanity
Fair 35; The Newcomes 56
Thames (sometimes ‘the river’) 105;
at Richmond 153, 189; drowning
167; valley 250, 256
Theocritus 61
Thdodule, pass and glacier 182
Theophrastus J2g, 130
Theresa, St 238
Thiemann, Fr 227
Thomas, St 82
Thorvaldsen, Bertel: ‘Lion of Lucerne*
Thrale, Mrs: see Piozzi, Mrs
Thrasymachus 275
Three Lindens, hill 777
Thucydides 49
Thwaytcs, Mrs Ann (‘Mrs Thwaites’)
150, 167
Tichborne (‘Titchbome’) : see Orton, A.
Tieck, Johann Ludwig 26
Timakhidas 22 j
Tintern Abbey 140
Tintoret (Jacopo Robusti) 59 \
Tissot, James Jacques: ‘Spring* 144;
‘Ball on Shipboard’ and other paint-
ings 247 \
Torquay 250, 251 \
Tosi, Fr 260 \
Toul: surrender 203 \
Toulmouche, Aug^uste i4g
Tournachon, Felix: see Nadar
Tournade, Br 242, 243
Towgood, Arthur ig
Towse, John Rankin 30, 53
Tozer, John Hellyer 238
Tozer, William G., Bp of Central Africa
236
Tracts for the Times 36, 59
Trefnant 257; church 237
Tremeirchion 257
Trinity College 21, 47, 60; gardens 135
Trinnian: see St Trinian
Trollope, Anthony 226
Turner, Rt Revd Dr William, Bp of
Salford 227
Turner, Revd Charles: sonnet quot. 133
(‘Bleak-faced . . .’)
Turner, Joseph Mallord William: ‘The
Pass of Faido’ 275; also 153, 247
Tyndal, John 182 (2)
Tynevald, hill 224
Ugbrooke Park 134, 253-4
Ullathornc, Rt Revd J. B., Bp of
Birmingham : Mr Gladstone* s Expostu-
lation Unravelled 262
United States of America: word xo;
novch and poetry 79; party of Ameri-
cans 177; negro in Congress 202;
Virginia readmitted 202
University College 60
Urquhart, Edward William : at Oxford
55, 59 (2). «35 (a), «37. »4o; »
Devon 153-6
Valtoumanches 182 (2)
Vatican : Council 202 ; Michael Angelo’s
pmntings 237; decrees 262
Vaughan, Fr Bernard John, SJ 232, 236
5^7
INDEX OF PERSONS AND PLACES
Vaughan, Rt Revd Dr Herbert Alfred,
Bp of Salford 227
Vaughan, Fr Kenelm: H meets 757; his
cure 157
Vaughan, Rt Revd William, Bp of
Plymouth 256
Velasquez, Diego Rodriguez 237
Venetia 143
Vevey 183-4
Vibert, Jean George 14Q (2)
Victoria, Queen 232
Victoria Hospital, Netley 216
Viescherhomer, mts 175, 176
Village on the Cliff : see Thackeray, A.
Villari, Pasqualc: History of Girolamo
Savonarola and of his Times 24 (quot.),
56
Virgil: joke translations 9, 19; quoted
out of context 97
Works', Aeneid 17; — quot. 97, 281
(Ttaliam , . Eclogues quot. ig
(Ttc domum Georgies quot. g
(‘Purpurea . . .’), 280 (‘Nonne
vidcs . . .*)
Virginia, U.S.A. 202
Virginia Water 256
Visconti-Venosta, Emilio, Marquis 203
Visp 179; river 180
Vogt, Mile 167
Vyner, Frederick 202
Wadham College 21, 138, 158, 159
Waggis: see Weggis
Wagner, Fr Albert, SJ 262
Wales: language 34, 258, 263; conver-
sion of 258; charm 258, 261
Walker, Frederick: ‘Vagrants* and
other paintings 767 (2); ‘The Har-
bour of Refuge* 240, 244; also 237
Wall, Revd Prof. Henry 34
Wallace, William 159 (2)
Wandsworth 241
Warren, Charlotte and Susannah (‘the
Miss Warrens’) 755, 156
Warren, Revd Dawson (‘vicar of Ed-
monton*) 755
Warren, Revd Frederick 153 (‘her
nephew*)
Watcombe 156
Water Colours exhibition (1864) 770,
(1866) 142^ (1874) 240
Water Eton 22
Waterhouse, Alfred 136
Watts, George Frederic: ‘Bulls and
Peasants* 257; ‘Clyde* 767; ‘Esau and
Jacob* 767; ‘Two Sisters* 237 y ‘Wife
of Pygmalion, The* 167
Weber, Otto: ‘A country lane* 143
Weggis (‘Waggis’) 171
Weisshorn, mt. 180, 18 1
Welchen (Swiss guide) 18 1
Weld, Fr Alfred, SJ 165, 166
Wells 140; Cathedral 140
Wells (‘Old Wells’) 21 1
Wells (woodblock-maker) 50
Wells, Grace 225
Wells, Br James igo, 191 (2)
West, Revd Richard Temple 187
Westenholz, A. 20
West Lavington : see Lavington
Westley (maker of drawing books) 5
Westminster Abbey 144 (‘the Abbey*),
257
Wetterhorner, mts 175
Whalley 221, 236; Abbey 227
Whalley, Whalley Nab 210, 229, 234
Wharton, Edward Ross 72, 139, 158, 159
Whitaker, Walter Eugene 55, 159
Whitby Abbey 14
Whiteham 133
Whitewell 230
Widccombe 155; church 755
Wigan, Alfred (theatre manager) i^g
Wight, Isle of: dialect 16. See also Gods-
hill, Shanklin
Wilde (‘Wild’), Richard Henry: poem
quot. 284
Wild Wood 150
Willems, Florcnt 148
Wilier t, Paul Ferdinand 16
Willesden : balloons seen at 183
Williams, Fr 221
Williams, Mr Justice 263
Williams, George Arthur 140
Williams, Robert 122
Wilson, Mr 175
Wilson, John ^
Wilson, Rt Revd Thomas, Bp of Sodor
and Man: Sacra Privata 140; A Short
and plain instruction for the better under--
standing of the Lord^s Supper 140
Wimbledon Common (sometimes ‘the
Common’): volunteers* camp 191,
249; Caesar’s camp 195; sham fight
241-2'y also 193, 195, 200
Windsor 233, 250, 256; Castle 256;
Park 256
Winefred, St 261
Wokingham; ‘Butterfield’s new church*
Wolvercote: lasher at 19
Wood, Br 199
Wood, Alexander: at Oxford with H
J/, 53, 55. 59. 7>. 7a, 135. *37; letters
from 755, 160; his marriage 241 j also
166, 229 (3)
Wood Eaton 135
Woodycr, Henry 136
Woollcombe (‘Woolcombe*, ‘Woolks’),
Edward Cooper 16
INDEX OF PERSONS AND PLACES
568
Woolner, Thomas 30
Wootton (Northants) : church 36
Worcester College 19
Wordsworth, William: Shairp’s essay
on 60; on poetic diction 84, 85 (2);
quoted out of context 97; seeming
simplicity 1 1 2 ; in relation to his time
1 15; also 56, 107
Poemsy &c.: Intimations of Immort-
ality quot. 206 (‘The young lambs
. . Lyrical Ballads^ Preface quot.
84] Sonnets 99; Tintern Abbey quot.
Ii6n (‘the heavy and . . .’) To the
Cuckoo (‘O blithe New-comer . . .’)
quot. and examined 95-96, 102, iii
Wortley, Archibald Stuart: ‘In Wharn-
cliffe Ghace* 2^7
Wyatt-Edgell, Alfred Thomas (later
Lord Braye) 168 ^ 185
Wycliffc (‘Wiclif*), John 10
Wye, river 140-1
Wylerhorn, mt. 172
Wyllie (‘Wylie’), William Lionel;
‘Goodwin Sands’ 247
Wyndcliff, precipice 140
Xenophanes 127, 128
Xenophon 62
Yates, Fr Arthur ig8
Yatman, Miss 28, 33 I
Yorkshire: rivers in 14; dialect (|9
Younan, Br 243
Zanzibar (‘Zanquebar’) 21
Zeno 127
Zermatt 179, 180 (2); valley i8o\(2)
Zug, lake 1 70 \
INDEX III
IVords and Subjects
References are for the most part grouped alphabetically under a general heading,
c.g. Art, Clouds, Words.
A page number is printed in italics when the passage to which the index refers
has been annotated.
Abbeys : De Ranee enters abbey of La
Trappe 218; abbeys visited by H,
see Index II Edinburgh (Chapel
Royal), Glastonbury, Lilleshall, Net-
ley, Saulcy, Teignmouth, I'intern,
Westminster, Whitby
Academy (disputation): at Beaumont
240; at Stonyhurst 227
‘accidented’ 82, 176
African tribes 2 1
Animals: cruelty to 133; horse-show
166; pictures 244
Particular: badgers 254; bats 65,
220; cows 170; deer 239; field-
mouse 24; foals 206; goats 172;
hares 230; horses 241-2; kitten 217;
lambs 206; lions 256; porpoises 214;
ram dying 230; rats 24, 133; Rover,
a dog i8y\ St Bernard dogs 183;
sheep, sheepflock, phenomenon 170,
187; — , shepherd leading 169; —
also 227; squirrels 22, 153, 196;
stag 122
Arabs, Beni-Zougzoug i^g
Architecture: architectural descrip-
tions (ecclesiastical) 23, 2^-24, 755,
184, i86-y, ifly-B, 214, 2/5, 221, 224,
248, 253, 254, 256, 257 (3), 262;
Balliol new buildings 136; Byzantine
or Romanesque 13; capitals 257;
church towers (Swiss and German)
183; conventional flower in pointed
and floriated 220; conventionalized
decoration 92; Denbigh castle 263;
Doric entablature 18 1 ; drawings 33,
50; Renaissance 13; Exhibition j66\
Ffynnon-Fair, ruined chapel at 238',
galilee (Ely) iS8; Gothic 13, 14;
Greek 75, 76; Indian 237; Norman
(Glastonbury) 7^0; proportion 75;
stairs 14; Teutonic 76; Tintern
typical English (reminiscent of Butter-
field) 7^0; transoms 14; unconscious
repetition 14; wood scalework 171
For architecture of churches and
cathedrals, see Index II Babbacombe,
Architecture [contd)
Bodlewyddan, Bristol, Edinburgh
(Chapel Royal), Elsfield, Ely, Exeter,
Geneva, Glasgow, Holyrood, Iffley,
London (All Saints'), Netlcy, On-
chan, Peel, St Alban’s, St Asaph,
Stanton Harcourt, Trefnant, West-
minster, Whitby, Widecombe
Army Purchase Bill 2 1 7
Art: amusement 123; archaic 76-77;
Assyrian 76, 77; beauty {q.v.)\ chil-
dren’s 80; conditions and difficulties
79; conventionalism 77-79; decay
78-79; Egyptian 76-77; energy of
contemplation 126; English (modern)
173; Greek 76, 77, 79; idealism 75,
78, 79; Japanese (modern) 242; local
colour, early ivory casket instance of
27; Middle Ages, of the 76, 77;
modern 77-78, 173, 242; natural
shapes conventionalized 92; nature
{q.v.)\ orthodoxy 119; perfection
78-79; proportion 75; realism 75, 77,
78-79; temper 65; three tones 290;
truth and beauty 74-75, 76; two
kinds of beauty 76 ; unity 83, 97, 99,
126; useful 290
See also Architecture, Form, Paint-
ing, Poetry
Association for the Promotion of the
Unity of Christendom (A.P.U.C.) 70
Atomism 1 19-21
Aurora: see Northern Lights
Balloon, balloons: Nadar’s 148; seen at
Willesden 183; Gambetta’s 203
Banks, banking: cheques 62; failures
137. >39
Baptism, lay 59
Barns: construction 171, 221
Beauty: art, in 74-75; cause of sense of
74-75, 95; chromatic and diatonic
104, 106, 120; climacteric, excess of
188; comparison, a question of 95,
98; complex 90; definitions 80, 139
(‘finding order’) 289 (‘virtue of
570
INDEX OF WORDS AND SUBJECTS
Beauty {contd)
inscape’); diffused 290; education
80; Greek rightness (in bluebells)
231; H’s resolution 71; inscape
iq^v .) ; interval and continuance 76,
80; masses, relation between 94-95;
morality (^.i'.); mystical 95; nature,
in 75 ; ‘Our Lord to and in whom all
that beauty comes home’ 254; sym-
metry and assymmetry 88-89, 90,
9 L 103
Bells: Mitton bells 218
Betting 59
Bible: Apocryphal New Testament 56;
New Testament quot. 4 (‘raised up a
horn of salvation’) ; Vaughan’s en-
thusiasm 157
‘Bidding’ 245
Birds: song structure ij8\ killed by a
wasp 21^17
Particular: cormorant 221, 225,
corncrake 137, 231 ; crane 4; crow 4,
21 ; cuckoo 24, 62, 135, 137, 138, 164,
165, 190, 191, 208, 231, 232; dove
154 (in a vision), 235; duck mes-
merized 207; flamingo 235; grouse
228; gull 135, 225; hawk 150, 221,
225, 234, 252, 257; heron 4, 20, 225;
mandarin-duck 243; nightingale 243,
244; owl 185, 257; parrot 215; pea-
cock 209, 231; peafowl 231; peewit
24, 134; pheasant 228; pigeon 231,
232; rooks 20, 135; skylark 138;
starling 261 ; stork 1 70 ; swallow 1 33,
134; swan 17, 262; swift 185, 231;
turkey 231; wagtail 133; woodlark
138, 145; woodpecker 164; wood-
pigeon 239; wren 227
Blandyke 227, 228, 234, 258, 2G2
Bones: sleeved in flesh 72
Book of Common Prayer, The 1 1 3
Bridges: floating (at Southampton)
216; suspension (at Bristol) 256;
Teign, over the 251
Brotherhood of the Holy Trinity
(‘B.H.T.’) 17
‘burl’, ‘burling’ 130, 251, 256
‘cads’ 133
Camps (ancient) : Caesar’s 195; Danish
J54» 253; ‘forths’ 198
Candles: form of apparition 198;
smoke 204; wax gulturings 173; also
236
‘canting* 262
Castles: see Index II Clitheroe, Den-
bigh, Derby, Dumbarton, Edinburgh,
Peel.
Casuistry 8i
Cathedrals: jw Index II Bristol, Canter-
bury, Cologne, Ely, Exeter, Geneva,
Glasgow, Gloucester, Hereford, Mun-
ster, Norwich, Peel, St Alban’s, St
Asaph, Salisbury, Sens, Wells
Caves: Pixies’ Parlour 156
Chance : falls into order 230
Children : art 80 ; beating bounds 1 36 ;
lan^age 160; obedience 82
Christianity 123, 138
Churches, chapels: ‘in Egypt and
Churchwardenship’ 24 ; in the Rhone
valley 179. See Index 11 Babba-
combe, Basel, Beddingficld, I Bodlc-
wyddan, Bovey Tracey, Bristol,
Elsfield, Garsington, Iffley, Ilsmgton,
Lavington, London, Manatonl Mer-
ton College, Onchan, Ottery St Mary,
Oxford, Paris, St Trinian, StJinton
Harcourt, Stonyhurst, Trefnant,\Val-
tournanches, Widecombe, Woking-
ham, Wootton
Church of England: Bristol Congress
6b; H resolves to leave 146
Circumcision 21
Clouds: greatest stack ‘I can recall
seeing’ 212; law 142 ; made of film in
sheet or tuft 204-5 > seen through
lifting 174; phenomenon opposite
sunset 210, 2i6y 232; prismatic colours
160, 179; rainbow against ground of
cloud 157; reflection in pond 48;
spokes of light 65 ; symmetry 66, 89 ;
wind iq.v.)
Select list of descriptive phrases:
angled pieces 168; anvil 142, 21 1;
bales 208, 231 ; balk 192, 240; barred
165; barrow 65, 66; brassy 181, 212;
brindled and hatched 210, 216, 218;
bulk, bulky 134, 181, 207; candle-
wax 201; cellular 210; chain of, in
chains 142, 149, 208; chalking,
chalky 72, 150, 151, 205; coil, coiled,
coiling 138, 193, 212; combs 143,
260; comet-shaped 143, 161 ; crisped,
crisping, crispy 142, 154, 187; crops
or slices 190; curdled, curds and
whey, 66, 137, 141, 142, 146, 168,
210; curl, curled 145, 156; damask,
damasking 27, 207; dapple of,
dappled 146, 150, 236; dirty,
scudlike 138, 139, 141; dropping
1 83 ; eggs on an ant-hill 219; eyebrow
181, 184, 204; feather 150, 153, 218;
featherbed 170; flake, flaked, flaky
142, 181, 193, 264, 218, 260; flat-
bottomed 207, 208; fleece 142, 192
(see below wool); flix 153, 156, 164,
166, 192; ‘flock’, ‘flock of sheep’ 150,
170; flosses 224; flue 171, 181; foiled
INDEX OF WORDS AND SUBJECTS
Clouds {contd)
i8i; fret, fretted, fretting 27, 155,
j79, 207, 216; gauze 139, 143;
gilded messes 184; globes 72, 210;
grapy 231; grass, grassy 138, 154,
161, 165, 196, 205; happed-up snow-
white thunder 237; horizontal 27,
66, 138; knop, knopped, knoppled
465 I93> 201, 208; knots ig6, 204;
leaf of a flower 207; level 89, 138,
142; ‘locks’, lock of hair 138, 156,
163; mackerel, mackerel ling 138,
*39» marching, moving in
rank 207, 208; marestail 142, 161,
260; mealy, meal-white 67, 72, 208;
meridian 143, 168; meshy 192;
mooded, moody 163, 166; mottle,
mottling 143, 153, 154 (2), 168;
moulded, moulding 134, 137, 141,
148, 154, 155, 205, 207, 208, 210,
ovcrlacing 135; oyster-shell 139,
148, 205; pack 204, 205; parallel 66,
69, 139; pearled, pearling, pearly
142, 196, 249; pellet, pcllettcd 138,
142, 165, 176, 216; pied 135, 205,
219, 234, 261; pillow 201; plotted
212, 216; rack 142, 150-1, 164, 210,
216, 260; rib, ribbed, ribbing 27,
143, 164, 170, 204, 205, 207, 216;
river 260; rocky 212; rope, roped,
roping, ropy 138, 158, 212, 240, 258;
rosette, rosetting 207, 216; rotten,
rotten-woven 184, 207; ruddled 142,
192; scaly, fish-scale 147, 151 ; scarf-
ends, scarves 148, 165, 185, 210;
seam 166, 201; set or current 165;
shire, shire-long 204, 249 ; spines
138, 139, H3; stack, stacked 135,
185, 201, 212; streamer 138,
204, 224, 231; suffused with light
145; tails 138, 145; tender after rain
190; thread, thready 151, 184;
‘traveller’s’, travelling 185, 207;
tretted moss 142, 156; tuft, tufted,
tufty 134, 138, 145, 156, 196, 201,
204, 208, 219, 243, 255; valences
138; vertebrated 138, 139, 260;
vizor 237; waggons 212; warp of
heaven, warping 206, 234; white rose
142, 168, 176, 184, 207; wracking
207; zoned 163
Colour: continuous or contrasted 104;
eye for 243; green 20, 151 (celadon);
mallowy red 66 ; optical illusion 252 ;
purpurea candidior nive 171; rainbow
scale (of roses) 167; seen on
looking from snow to sky 171; sky
(^.z;.) sunlight, in 147, 152; symmetry
88
Comets 227, 249
Conscience 124
Concerts: Henry Leslie’s 166 ; instru-
ment i6i\ Leopold’s (Mme) 767-8;
Monday Popular 759; Stonyhurst, at
S36
Contemplation 126
Convents: Augustinian 757; Bene-
dictine 256; of St Paul 162
Conversion: England, of 157; indivi-
duals, of 756, 218, 258; Wales, of 258
Coral 205 ; madrepores 750
Costume, dress: Irish 187; Swiss 172-3;
Tissot’s pictures, in 247
Criticism: scientific basis 75-76; taste,
in matters of 86-87
Cross: Danish 224; engraved 221;
‘stations’ 771
Crowd: composition 139
Crystals: mud 201 ; paste 189
Cures: miraculous 157, 261
Cynicism 123
Danish soldiers’ and sailors’ relief fund
20
Death: associations of the dead 141;
casualties at Sadowa 145; mark of
early 260; murder of the English
‘Lords’ 202; murder of the hostages
210-11
Decoration, design: earthenware 155-
6; embroidery 254; which seems im-
perishable 120
See also Architecture
Drama: chromatic 76; Greek 96, 114;
pathos 195; tragic irony 96; unity 97
Dream, dreaming: consciousness of
193-4; nightmare 238
Dress: see Costume
Earthquake 205
Education 80
Electricity in wool 196
Emotion: cause 195; instress imposed
by 215; tears 218
‘entasis’ 199, 205
Epitaphs 35, 38
Eyes, eyelids: in phrases 58, 65, 66, 72;
optical illusion 252 ; sight in waking
or dreaming 194; sweat in hollow of
228; weaken 243
Face: French 179; seen by light of a
taper 228-9
Fairies: fairy rings 134, 156, 237; Irish
1 97~8 ; Pixies, beliefin 1 56 ; Welsh 263
Fancy 85
Fast, fasting: factory girl at Preston
220; girl died 202; slow days 37
Feasts: see Religious Observances
Fells 213, 220, 228, 230, 231, 261
572
INDEX OF WORDS AND SUBJECTS
Fenians 133
Filioque controversy 60
Fireworks 23a
Fish, fishing: mackerel 221, 234; sal-
mon 230; seine 254 ‘flix*: of clouds
153, 156, 164, 166, 192; of a glacier
(under-flix) 174
Flowers: see Plants
‘flush’, ‘flushness’ 127, 128
Folklore : Duch6 1^6; tailor and buggane
224; widow of Horbury 754
‘foredraw’, ‘foredrawn’ 127, 128, 129 (2)
‘forepitch’ 201, 204
Form: absolute existence 120; speaking
163; unconscious repetition 14;
words 125
Fount, fountain: Greek inscription 10;
in Basel 169
Franco-Prussian war 202-3, 217
‘frank’ 147
Freezing 201-2. See also Frost, Ice
Friendship 3, 141
‘Friends in Council’ (F.I.G.) 54
Frost, frosting: flowers, on 193, 219;
glass and slabs, on 196, 227: grass,
on 190, 227; May, in 243; trees, on
193, 239, 240; also 218, 262
Fruit: Paradise 209
‘gadroons* 171, 209
Games: cricket 135; football 197
Gardens 135, 137, 143, 201
Gems: chrysoprase 20, 148; diamonds,
hailstones like 201; emerald 20;
Fuller on 48 ; Kensington Museum, in
242 ; marcasite or firestone 48 ; Soane
Museum, in 24/ ; turquoise 1 76
German priests 236 , 260
Ghosts, stories of 185, 197
Glaciers 174, 175, 176, 178-9, 181, 182
Glens 225, 235, 259
‘globy’, ‘globcish’ 19, 152
Hernici, rock-men 4
Heat: evaporation 203
Happiness 122
Hexameron society 19 (‘new names’),
38, 133
History : historical development 119;
historical theory 80
Horizon 23, 65
Hotels, inns: Bellevue 174; Hotel de
Saxe 747; P6rigord 747; Trois
Gouronnes 1 84 ; Velindra 140 ; Wheat-
sheaf 257
Humour 76, 290
Ice: air bubbles 201; formations 163,
164, 200; Rhone vault 179. See also
Freezing
Idealism 118-19, 124, 127; in art, see
Art
‘idiom* 195
Imagination 85
Indian shawls 120
Infallibility, definition of 202
‘inlaw’ 130
‘inscape’, ‘inscaped’: beauty unknown
22 1 ; beauty the virtue 289 ; deep in
things 205; destroyed 230; governs
behaviour 21 1 (2); holds fast 127;
‘idiom’ not true inscape 195; motion,
effect of 199; painting, in 241, 244,
245, 246, 248 (2) ; sculpture, in 242
In particular relation to: ‘Being’ in
Parmenides 127, 129-30; blifebells
199, 209; chancel gate 255 (‘running
inscape’) ; church window 255 (‘alter-
nate inscape'); cloud 181; dielytras
220; Edinburgh castle rock 214;
glacier 175, 178; grass on hill-side
227, 228; horse 241 ; leaves 174, 243;
mountains 180; night-sky 218; point-
ed arch 263; rushing water 176, 177;
sky or sea 221 ; slack and decay 2H ;
speech 289; sunset and sun 196;
trees 170, '176, 179, 189, 196, 199,
200, 205, 215, 243, 259; tiefoil 209:
violet (horned) 2 1 1
See also ‘scape’, ‘scaping’
Insects: ant-hill 219; bees 145; butter-
flies 66, 251; caddis-flies 24; death-
watch 212; earwig 9; glow-worm
145; grasshoppers 173; wasp 217
‘inset’ 212
‘install’: cloud 207; painting, in 244,
245; waves 225
See also ‘stall’
‘instress’: absent (in a picture) 244;
absent with a companion 228; all-
powerfulness 188; emotional 176;
fascinating 207; nervous and muscu-
lar 238; running 215; true and false
204
In particular relation to: ‘Being* in
Parmenides 127; blue (of sky) 207;
bluebells 231; cinqfoil 257; cloud
212; comet 249; inscape of pointed
arch 263; lunar halo 218; mind 215;
painting 168, 237; primroses 206;
trees 199, 253; trinity 215; Wales
(charm of) 258; Weeping Winifred 250
‘instress’ (verb) 271
‘jod-jodding’ 232
Justice 81
Justification 59
‘jut-jotted’ 256
Language: see Poetry, Words
573
INDEX OF WORDS AND SUBJECTS
Law: legal documents (Latin) lo;
Manx 224; probate (Mrs Thwaites’
will) /JO
In relation to beauty: candle-smoke
204; clouds 142; crowd 139; leaves of
trees 90, 146; waves 223
Legend : see Folklore
Lightning: at dawn 181 ; described 155,
189, 212, 233; IXlk€s /j/; preserva-
tive against 226; shock from 221
Literature : fortunate losses 49
Lock, lock-gates 8. See also Water
Logic: induction and example ^9; in
morals 81; also 10, 104
Lovers: chatterings 37; killed by light-
ning 24
‘margaretted’, ‘margaretting’ 246, 290
Materialism 118-19
Mechanics 252
Mediaevalism, modern 26^ 32, 33, 144
Menstruum 240
Mesmerism 207
Metaphysics : future 1 1 8-2 1
Middle Ages: art 76, 77; also 13, jo, 115
Milanese ritual 288
Mind: dead impressions 194; dream-
images stalled 194; energy 125; in-
stress (<7.z'.) ; materialism cannot
explain 118; poetry tasks highest
powers 85; unconscious cerebration
235
Mist: blue 239; morning 147, 189;
purple 33
Monasteries, monks: Arroasian Canons
160; Benedictine 141, 165; Cistercian
207, 2/j (Netley); La Tiappe 218;
Monk’s chair 156; St, Bernard
Hospice 183
Moon, moonlight: blue iris, blue spot
1 61, 218; eclipse 157-8, 220; lake, on
184; lunar halo 163, 218; lunar
rainbow 220; river, on 14 1, 169, 189;
roofs, on 1G9; Venus, opposite 161;
also 23, 58, 237, 257
Morality: amusement, may end in
122-3; heauty, analogy with 80-81;
consistency the highest excellence 83 ;
duty to oneself 1 24 ; historical theory
80; logical, whether 81; objective
and subjective, political and personal
80-81, 122-4; political virtues not
the whole 123; utilitarian theory
80-85, 122, 123
Mortification 59
Mountains, hills: air of persons 171;
Alps, see Index II; Black Forest 169;
cloud shadows on Wye 140; Dart-
moor, see Index II; horn 4; inscape
180; Oxford, near 17, I33"4i Rhine
Mountains, hills (contd)
169; Scotland, in 213; snow (q.v.);
summit not place for views 181;
Wales, in 257-8, 262
Museums: see Index II Basel, South
Kensington, Soane
Music, musical instruments: bluebells
suggest wind instrument 209 ; chrom-
atic and diatonic scale 104, 106;
church 84; concerts {q.v.); Fanny’s
(Aunt) music book 44; finger-glasses
i6y; Hebrew poetry, musical origin
of 267; Kensington Museum, instru-
ments in /j/, 2J7-8 ; Millicent’s piano
playing 143, 149; ^my music seemed
to come to an end’ 258; new Realism
1 20 ; not symmetrical 88 ; Parnassian
38 ; proportion a scientific ground 75 ;
recollected 195 ; speech, in relation to
273; versification (q.v.) ; Welsh erwth
238
See also Concerts, Song
Nature: art differs from, in presenting
truth 74; canon by which to harmon-
ize 135, 136; ‘gaped and fell apart’
236; independent of the earth 200;
irregularities, inequalities 87, 92;
mechanical 252; Nemesis 177; pre-
valent philosophy 120; true and false
instress 204
Northern Lights (Aurora) : H first sees
200; seen also at Rome 200-1, 203;
also 214, 217, 224
Numbers 87
‘offscape’ 207
Oratory: Asiatic school 2y6; paeon 275;
Plato’s attitude 1 1 7
Ordination 137, 259, 260
‘outscape’ 184
Painting: Bavarian 148; Belgian (Flem-
ish) 33, I 44 » 148, I 49 > 164; com-
position 94, 120 (unity), 248 (in-
scape) ; decline 79; Dusseldorf 31, 33;
English 142-3, 149, 167, 240, 244-7,
248; French 31, 33, 144, 149, 164;
German 170; inscape (q.v,); Italian
168, 172, 173, 237, 241; Japanese
(imitation) 247; missal 77; Parnas-
sian 38; pattern (lines and dots) 103;
poetry in no; — , more chromatic
than iii; portraits 55, 142, 186;
Preraphaelite 30, 31, 79, 164;
realism 77-79; — , new realist school
142 ; examples 237, 241, 244, 247,
248; scaping {q,v.)
Exhibitions and galleries visited:
Agnew’s, Hunt’s Shadow of Death at
574
INDEX OF WORDS AND SUBJECTS
Painting (contd)
248; Basel Museum /70; French and
Flemish exhibition 144, i4g, 164;
Kensington Museum 237; National
Gallery i68j 241 ^ 257; National
Portraits exhibition 75/, 186 \ Old
Masters* exhibition 230; Paris Ex-
position 147, 148; Royal Academy
142-% i6y, 244 -^ ; Water-Colours
exhibition 142^ 240
Parallelism : set Versification
Parks: set Index II Gowdray, Denne,
Richmond, Ugbrooke
Pathos 195, 290
Periodicals and magazines: Academy,
The 262; Christian Remembrancer, The
60 \ Church Times, The 37; Cornhill
Magazine 14, 1 7 (‘A Trip to Xanadu’) ;
Englishman's Magazine, The 34 ; Essays
and Reviews 36', Moniteur 146; National
Review, The 34, 6b; North British Re-
view, The 6b; Pall Mall Gazette 73;
Spectator, The 63; Times, The 56, 165;
Union Review, The 70; Univers 241
Philistine 107
Philosophy: cynic 123; empirical 122;
idea of development 1 1 9-20 ; ortho-
doxy 1 19; Plato, of 1 1 5-1 7; realism
120, 127; stoic 123.
See also Metaphysics, Platonism,
Utilitarianism
Physiology ii8
Plants, flowers: Alpine 172, 174-3, 179;
frost (q.v.); hedges, green daylight
1 61; inscape in behaviour 21 1; Isle
of Man, on 222 ; leaf of flower held
against the light 207 ; meadows
peaked 47; snow {q.v.)
Particular: agapanthus 260; agri-
mony 257; alchemilla (‘bigger-leaved
one’) 774; Alpine rose 175, 178;
auriculas 222; autumn crocus 39;
barley 144, 235; bindweeds 147;
bluebells, beauty described 199,
208-9, 231; — , descriptive phrases
22. 55; — gathering 243; — also 54,
134 (2), 135, 161; brambles, briars
150, 206, 222, 251; bryony 6i,
797, 248; buttercups, in Magdalen
meadow 137; — , mass floating 139;
— also 138, 174, 231; cabbages 143;
campion 135; carnations 143; cclan-
^ne 218; chamomile (‘ox-eye-like’)
J44; chervil 162, 174; clematis 61,
193; comfrey 21 1\ corn, under rain
*83; — , young 57; — also 166, 167;
cornflowers 179; cowslips 23, 24,
134; crocus 57; crosswort 257;
daffodils 190, 208; daisies 134, 222,
243; dandelions, puff-balls 24. 138,
Plants, flowers {contd)
174; dielytras 220 \ Egyptian sacred
bean 792; eschscholtzias (‘etzkolt-
zias’) 142', eye-bright 77; fennel 251;
fox-glove 220; fumitory 135, 248;
furze 133, 190; fuschias 222; garlic
206; gentianellas 172, 176; gentians
172 (2); geraniums 257; grass,
fairy rings 237; — , frost on 190, 227;
— , snow on 190, 195, 205 (‘bents’),
228; — , at sunset 66, 243, 260;
— also 24, 147, 150, 151, 106, 173,
186; harebells 172 (2); hemlock 136;
hemp 179; herb, some graceml 263;
hibiscus 61, 192; honeysuckle 166,
189, 206, 219; hops 168; hyicinths
54» 55; iris, flag-flower 136, 146, 141,
211, 219, 220, 232; ivy 243,^ 251;
lilies 140; lucerne 772; maize, 179;
marjoram 62; nymphoea scutif olid 132;
oats 144; oleander 169; orchis 24,
134; oxeyes 138; pansies 39; parsley
147; pinks, Alpine 179; plantain
172; potentilla 175; primroses, de-
scriptive phrases 54, 55 (2); — ,
instress of 206; — also 24, 57, 135,
190, 208; ragwort 259; rampion
(‘spiked flower’) 772; rapefield 231;
roses 25, 143 (2), 167, 236; rue 61,
147, 242; ryefields 249; St John’s
wort 143, 220; scabious 251 ; snakes’-
head (fritillary) 24, 133, 779 (‘tulip-
like flower’); Solomon’s seal 136,
779; sorrel 138; traghneans 198;
traveller’s joy 147, 251; tulip 136;
valotta 260; vetch 135; Victoria regia
132; violets, Alpine 174; — , colour
and smell 206; — , horned 2ri; —
also 39, 1 34 ; virgin’s brier 226 ; water
lily 192; wheat, green 20; — , red
147; — also 144, 249; wood-sorrel
162, 206
Platonism : never could be a system 1 1 7 ;
philosophy of flux opposed to 1 20
Ploughfields : at sunset 260
‘Ploughtail’ 2x6
Poetry: afternoon of 119; artificial 38;
Castalian 38; conditions and restric-
tions in relation to beauty 79, 100-2;
deflnitions 84, 106, 107, 108, 289;
doggerel 107, 267, 290; Elizabethan
10; emphasis 98, 106; Greek antho-
logies 79; inscape of speech 289,
inspiration, of 38; language (diction)
38, 76, 84-85 ; lyrical, central idea in
1 12; no royal road to 23; notes for
46, 57; nursery rhyme 133 (‘Vio-
lante ...’); Olympian 38; painting
{q.v.); par^lelisms 19; Parnassian
38; Plato’s teaching in relation to
INDEX OF WORDS
Poetry {contd)
1 1 7 ; poetic diction, see above language ;
political 2yg\ prose {q.v.)\ sonnet-
writing 98, 99; United States, of 79;
verse, distinguished from aSq-qo;
Welsh (quot.) 34
See also Versification
Political : see Morality
Positivism, positivist 107, 118, iiq
Pottery 755
Precious stones : see Gems
Preraphaelite: see Painting
Prose: distinguished from poetry 84,
106-7, *o8, 267
Proverbs 38, 53, 284
Psychology : material ii 8 ; psychological
value 71
‘quain’, ‘quained’, ‘quaining’ 770, 171,
176, 205 206 (2), 207, 290
Rain: air rinsed 148; blowing from
spouts 158; drops 72; drought 167;
rainclouds 138, 176; runnels 157;
sea, at 236 ; sky foretelling 1 5 1 ; also 55
Rainbow: ‘blue bow’ 148, 169; colours
148, 157, 171, 220, 237; convex to
sun 213; double 220, 237; looked at
with one eye 67; lunar 220; shadow
on 169, 176; weather-saw 213; also
156, 164, 183
Reformation 24, 70, 1 1 5
Religious observances: Exposition of
the Blessed Sacrament 759; Feast of
St Ignatius 234, 249; Feast of St
Joseph’s Patronage 243’-, Feast of the
Sacred Heart 232; Forty Hours 159;
procession 210 (Whit Monday), 231
(Corpus Christi) ; retreat 163 (2), 164,
jSg, 191, 195, 214, 226, 236 (2), 259;
triduum 230, 232, 248
See also Index II Hopkins, G. M.:
Personal and Spiritual
Renaissance 13, 79
Revolution, fear of the 213
River: barge on 139; billows 180; foam
cuffs 177; muddy 175; names 14;
pillows 1 76 ; swaling or give of water
189; swollen 212; thread 134; tumult
200; wheel in 21 1
See also Glaciers, Water
Rocks: Breiihorn 180; Dumbarton
212; Isle of Man 221, 222, 235;
planing 177; St Asaph, near 257
waterfall, under 1 72 ; waves over 223
225
Roman Empire 122-3
‘scape’, ‘scaping*: dead impressions
bring no 194; image of 125; instress
AND SUBJECTS 575
scape’, ‘scaping* {^contd)
independent of 215; motion, of 232,
234; painting, in 245 (2), 246, 248;
square 202, 205, 208, 245
In particular relation to: ‘Being* in
Parmenides 127, 130 (2); clouds 204,
210; daffodils 208; fresh-caught fish
234; frozen pond 202; leaves 192;
lightning 234; river 175, 200; stars
170; sunset 196, 201 ; waves 223
Schools : national 248 ; Schools Endow-
ment Bill 243
Science : metaphysics distinguished from
iiB; ‘need not interfere with genius*
75; physical 119
‘scopeless* 118
Scotism, scotists 236, 249
‘screw-set’ 144
Sculpture: *Clytie' 167; frieze 57; ‘Mel-
pomene* 242; ‘St Cecilia’ 234
‘scuppled’ 235
‘scurl’ 231
Sea: Babbacombe bay 156, 254, 255;
channel crossing 148, 184; clouds,
under 168; mirage 213; oneness 225;
painting, in 247; paved with wind
234; warped 222, 255; waves break-
ing on beach 221, 223, 235, 251-2;
— breaking on rocks 222, 224, 225,
236; — , grotted 23; — , whorlM . . .
whelked 56
Seaweed 184; ‘water-ivybush* 233
Sheepflock 170, 187
Ships: American yacht Sappho 202;
H.M.S. Captain 203; shipbuilding
yard 214
‘sided*, ‘siding* 130, 155, 21 1, 267
Sin 81
Sky: afternoon 149, 207; beauty (sym-
metry and change) 88-89, 9®; colour-
ing 88; fireballs 160; fireworks 232;
match of sky with lawn, &c. 135;
foretelling rain 151; hand held
against 154; map 138-9; notes for
sketches 43, 47, 65; opposite bays
79J, 207; opposite sunset 210, 216,
252; radiations at night 185; rain-
bows, between two 220; something
falling as plain as rain 166; ‘some-
thing redhot* falling 228; trees
(leaves) against 151, 152, 154, 196,
239, 240; V-shaped appearance 216';
wholeness 154; zenith 201, 204, 207
(2), 213; zodiacal light 199
Select list of descriptive phrases: blue
of vase-glass 207; blue ‘water* 228;
breathing open 147; curds and whey
142 {see Clouds); damasking 207;
dark-in-bright 168; featherbed 170;
forehead 199; horned rays 146;
INDEX OF WORDS AND SUBJECTS
576
Sky (contd)
moody 163; moulded in flutings 141 ;
musky 162; oyster-shell 139 {see also
Clouds); pied 135 Clouds) ;
sleepy blue 133; straight line effect
I35i strips 1 41; working blue-silver
149
See also Clouds, Northern Lights,
Stars, Sun, Sunrise, Sunset
Smoke: candle 204; London 256;
shadow of 220; valley, in a 260
Snake: buds like heads of 209; cloud
plotted like 212; curves 22; slough
144; white 178
Snow: drifts 53, 230; grass, on 190,
1 95, 205 (‘bents’) , 228 ; leaves, on 2 1 9 ;
damasking 180-1, 228; mountains,
on 1 71 (‘world or shires’), 172, 174,
1 76, 1 80, 181,261-2; stones in a river,
on 228 ; sun on snow-dust 1 95-6 ; trees,
on 196; also 205, 218, 227
Song, singing: choruses 289; Gregorian
740; hymns 288; Manx 221; May
I^ay 133; pitch 268
Sin^e songs: Adelaida 166; Admiral
Benbow 44; Charlie is my Darling 44;
Die Drei Rbselein 44; Polly Oliver 44;
Schumann’s Slumber-song 149; ‘Vio-
lante . . .* (nursery rhyme) 133;
Walkings Ale 44; Weeping Winifred
250
Sophists 1 16, 1 17
Soul : candles a form of apparition 1 98 ;
form of word an analogy to 125; in
hell 238
Spiculation 185
‘splay’ 199, 216, 222, 239
‘stalled’, ‘stalling’ 194, 196, 21 1
‘stands’ 136
Stars, planets: ‘all that beauty comes
home’ 254; Andromeda 228; Antares
1 81; Bear 200; Gapella 170; Cassi-
opeia 170; eclipse, during 158; falling
200, 227-8; Jupiter 153; morning
147; opposite bays of the sky, in 193;
Perseus 170, 228; Plough 170;
similes 17, 37, 46-47; Taurus 181;
‘twiring’ 181; Venus 161 (2), 162
(2). 217
Stoicism 123
‘stress’: ‘Being’ in Parmenides, in rela-
tion to 127 (2), 129; heat, of 203;
sleep, in relation to 238 (2) ; sorrow,
o£ 195; water at Holywell, of 261;
waves returning 221
Sun, sunlight: ace 154, 196; beams on
horizon opposite sunset 210, si6,
232; behind cloud 48, 141, 200; bim-
bcams 233; ‘bursts’ 162; clouds
against and below 207 ; colour, effect
Sun, sunlight {contd)
on 147, 152; elm-leaves, on 152;
fuming of atmosphere 220; globes
149; leaves against 152, 239, 240;
parhelion 217; rain, after 143; rain-
bow convex to 213; reflection 154;
shaded horns 141 ; silver light which
surrounds 222; smell of cedar 249;
snow, on 171, 196-7; solar halo 163,
165, i8g, 201, 21 1, 243; ‘striking and
glanting’ 239; spot of ‘session’ 236;
trees, on 146, 150; water riot \n 220;
waves, on 148 j
See also Sky, Sunrise, Sunset
Sunrise, dawn: Alps, in the 17J, 176,
181; charm 139; clouds at 6^ 160,
189, 190, 192, 201, 237; colour of
landscape after 147; fan 65* 66;
juices 72 ; sluiced 1 7 ; stars at i
Sunset: air rinsed 148, 189; Alps, iit the
181, 184; Cefn, at 259; clouds at 65,
66, 89, 134, 138, 139; 141, 142, 143,
145, 146, 147, 149, 150, 151, 153,
155, 156, 166, 170, 176, 181, 184,
*93» 201, 210, 212, 216,
224, 234, 236, 240, 260; green of
grass seen at 66, 243, 260; opposite
65, 181, 210, 216, 232; peak a word
for 47 ; rainbow at 213; solar halo at
211 ; trees at 192 (yews), 240, 255;
wine-coloured 168; yellow streaming
>57
‘swaled’, ‘swaling’ 189, 218
Taste: see Criticism
Thought: afternoon of 1 19; parallelism
in 85; pitch of 119; unity, effort at
83-
‘throes’ 203
Thunder, thunderstorms 141, 151 (2),
>55» 183 (2), 189 (2), 212, 221, 230,
233-4, 244. See also Lightning
Tichbourne (‘Titchborne’) trial je/y-iB,
241 (2)
Tradition 185
Trees, shrubs: art, in 77; Australia 190;
branch-heads 50; budded 190, 230;
copses 134, 153, 154; distance, at a
137, 144, 145, 150; droop, drooping
144 (2)7 150; E. counties, in 187;
felling 189, 218, 230, 240; France, in
147, 148; frost on 193, 239, 240;
gate made by 23^; grey light under
260; house cushioned by 222;
inscape {q.v.) ; instress {g.v.) ; Isle of
Man, in 222; Latin and Greek names
61-62; leaves falling 239, 240; — ,
new 136; — , scaping 192; — , warp
210; lobes 65, 72; mist, in (against
sun) 239; moonlight 23; orchards
577
INDEX OF WORDS AND SUBJECTS
Trees, shrubs {contd)
24> 140; painting, in 149, 153;
Park 145, 146, 154, 190, 199; Rich-
mond Park, from a height in 189;
shadows in 137, 231, 239; snow on
196; sold ‘top and lop’ 191 ; ‘sprayed
all one way’ 182; spraying 171;
Spring colour 230; sunset 255;
Switzerland, in 170, 171; theory of
65; viol-headed, &c. 65, 151 (‘elms’) ;
waterfall, at neck of 182; wind in 39,
144, 192, 233
Particular', acacia 61; alder 235;
apple 24, 134 (2), 1 51, 250; ash,
boughs 23, 140; — , clusters 67, 177,
182; — , Dennc Park, in 146; — ,
felled 215, 218, 230; — , inscape of
spraying 200, 205 -6, 254, 259; — ,
large-leaved 146, 147; — , pair of 152;
— , Switzerland, in 172, 177, 182;
— also 72, 134 (2), 154, 155, 210,
222, 223, 235, 253; aspen 139, 141,
147; azalea 62; beech, copper 136;
— , determining planes 143, 144; — ,
leaves 135, 136, 165 (‘floral sit’), 239,
253; — i M3; — j sun and
wind in 233; — also 72, 145, 171,
235, 243, 250; birch 214, 239; black-
thorn 25 1 ; cedar, determining planes
143, 144; — , smell 249; — , warp
249; — also 189, 192, 193, 239 (2);
cherry, blossom 220, 231; — also
169, 171, 175; chestnut, bloom 136,
137, 141, 243 (2); — , inscape 179,
199; — > l^tw go; — , leaves (fans)
89-95 passim, loi, 133, 145, 162,
164, 165, 190; shadow 137; — ,
Spanish 141, 145, i68, 179, 182, 189,
224, 235, 239; — also 135 (2), 152,
169, 189, 201 ; cornel 4; coronillabi ;
cytisus 61; elder 61; elm, blackness
757; — , branches, boughs 57, 137;
— , Devonshire, in 153, 154 (‘live
stems’), 250 (2), 252; — , Finchley, at
1 51; —, Fyficld, at 135', — , leaves
50, 152 (2), 156, 163, 190 (2), 240,
242, 243; — , Richmond Park, in
153, 165, 243; — , Roehampton, in
189 (2) I—, sky, against 150, 152;
trunks 136; — also 23, 24, 62, 134 (2),
135 (3 )> 142, M8, m8, 192, 198, 2M,
230* 249; fig 156; fir, Scotch 157;
— , Switzerland, in 170, 171, 172;
— also 17, 22, 135 (2), M4» 198;
genista 61 ;gum 190; hawthorn (may)
55, 61, 136, 137, 161, 162, 218
(‘quick’); hazel, catkins 161, 189,
195; — , nutbuds 161; — also 140,
M7i ^53; holly 155; hornbeam 218;
ilex 156; larch 22, 180, 183, 253;
Trees, shrubs (contd)
laurel 215, 254; lilac 137, 161 ; lime,
cards 150, 168; — , form 163; — ,
sweet acid 249; — also 94, 140, 145,
148, 192, 196, 210; laurel 62; lotus
61; mastich 61; mulberry 137, 192;
oak, curve (parabolic) 23, 89-90,
153; — , Great Rawber 253; — , law
of leaves 145, 146; — , organization
I44~~y^ — > roots 67; — , Spanish,
wrecked in gale ig2', — , Turkey 196,
239»247; — also 134, 140,141, 142, 146
(3), M7» M8, 150, 15^ 152 (2), 154,
156, 165, 168, 214; olive 254; osier
134* 189; palms 58; pine-buds 144;
plane 137, 144, 154, 1 71, 254; poplar,
forming a gate post 239', — , Lom-
bardy 144; white 134, 143, 239;
— also 150, 154, 169, 218; privet 62,
254; quince 61; rhododendron 62;
sloe 61; strawberry 154, 222; syco-
rnore, leaves, clusters 145, 206, 210,
218; — , Switzerland, in 175, 176
(‘inscaped’), 182; — also 137, 139,
142, 155, 253; syringa 167; tamarisk
179 222; vine 61, 169, 179, 184;
walnut 169, 171; wayfaring (‘rough,
round-leaved tice’) 7^7; white-beam
147; whitethorn 61, 251; willow 24,
1385 139, 190 (see above osiers) ; wych-
elm, leaves (size, &c.) 151, 152, 153,
154, 223; — also 140, 160, 165, 199,
239» 253; yew 38, 135 (2), 142, 144,
M5, 192, 198
See also Woods
‘tretted’ 142, 156, 177
‘tuipid’ 8
Utilitarianism 80-85, 122, 123
‘versed’ 208
Versification : accent, accentual 268-70,
271, 274, 276, 277-9, 281-2; allitera-
tion 84, 102, 108, 1 12, 267, 283-4,
2B7, 290; Anglo-Saxon 284; Arabian
288, dpais and ddoLs 268', assonance
84, 102, 108, 283, 284, 287, 288;
ballad 287; beat, see below rhythm;
caesura 273, 280-1, 283; Celtic 288;
Chinese 288; choruses 289; counter-
point 278, 279, 280, 281, 282; defini-
tions 267, 289; English, accentual
276, 277; — , alexandrine 281; — ,
hexameter 274; — , alliteration 284;
— , imperfect rhymes 285-6; — ,
scansion loo-i, 274-6, 280; — ,
structure 84, 108; feet, see below
rhythm; figure of sound 267, 290;
French alexandrine 281 ; — , counted
570 INDEX OF WORDS AND SUBJECTS
Versification (contd)
276, 279, 280; Gaelic 288; German
200; Greek, alliteration 284; — , feet
272; — , late accentual 288; — ,
metres 270-1, 272, 574, 275, 276,
279, 280, 281 ; — , structure 84, 108;
Hebrew, origin 267; — , rhyme 288;
— , structure 84, 106, 108 (‘Psalms’),
109; holding of syllables 268, 288;
Icelandic 284 (2), 288; Italian,
metre 279, 280; — , rhyme 287; — ,
structure 84, 108; Latin, alliteration
284; — hymns 288 ) — inscriptions
27&-7; —metre 270, 274, 275, 276-7,
280, 281, 282; lettering of syllables
268, 283; Magyar 270; Maltese 259;
Manx 221; metre, see below rhythm;
monotony, prevention of 280-3 ;
music in relation to 273; musical
pitch 268, 288; Norse 287; parallel-
ism, see below structure; pitch 268,
269, 279, 288; Portuguese 284;
quantity 270-1, 276, 279; rests 273;
rhyme 79, 84, 100, 101-2, 108, 283,
284, 285-8, 290; rhythm, beat,
metre, feet 84, loo-i, 108, log, 267,
271-82, 288, 290; Romance 288;
Sapphic 281, 282 (2); Saturnian
27^7; scansion 276-83; Scotch 287;
Spanish 279, 284; stress in 267, 268,
269-70, 271; structure, parallelism
in, 84-85, 106, 108-14 passim; — ,
artificial 84, 102, 107, 108, 112; — ,
regular 106; — , unity of 99-100,
283; synezesis (break) 270, 283, 288;
Tamul 270; Teutonic 288; unity, see
above structure
See also Poetry
Water: barge wrinkling 139; black 24;
bossy 67; crest of a ripple 171;
crispings 144; drops 23, 175, 233;
fall in shreds 12; fountains 169;
glacier, in a 181; Holywell, at 261;
knitted brook 65; lake 170; lock (or
lasher), through a 5 , 79; pail, in a
1 78 ; plant or rootwork of brooks 1 82 ;
reflection of willow 139; ribs 67;
rock, over 172, 178; rock-pools 224,
235; rushing 176, 177; St Winefred’s
Well 258, 261; sunken stone, over
67; tinkling 145; water-runs 157,
201, 205; waterspout 230; weed-beds
182; ‘wheel* 21 1 ; wimpling 175;
wine mixed with 224
See also River, Sea, Waterfall
Waterfall, cascade 1 70, 1 72, 1 73, 1 76-7,
178, 180, 182, 233, 235
Waterwheel 223
Waves; see Sea
Weaving 225-6
Wind: clouds in 204, 208; ‘dappled on
one’s face’ 233; gales 189, 214; — ,
equinoctial 192, 241; housing 39;
icebergs, over 219; sea paved with
234; snow-waves 230; south 233;
trees {q.v.); visible 233; west 151,
219; whirlwind, little 208
Wit 76, 290
Woods: distance, in the 215; spraying
171 ; sun, against the 190; Wales, in
259, 260, 261, 262; also 134, 144, 153,
168 r
See also Trees I
Words, language: accent 269-70;
African (‘language of this people’)
21; American 10; Celtic 15c chil-
dren’s 1 60; Cornish 200; Gimiber-
land 15; Devonshire 155 {aamp),
185, 219, 251; English, accent in
269, 270; — , morality and 53; — ,
phrases in 19; French 10, 269, 270;
Gaelic 15; German 9; Gothic 36;
Greek 4, 5, 7,8, 10, ii, 12, 13, 19,21,
22, 25, 31, 34, 36, 44, 46, 47, 132,
133, i82y 258, 269; Irish 198-9, 221,
243; Isle of Wight 16; Lancashire 8,
19 1 {folds) y 211,212-13 {swathey &c.),
225-6 {wark, &c.)y 227 (felk, &c.),
232-3 {a-bullockin\ &c.), 234’ (a-
peerkin\ See.) ; Latin 4, 5 {fessus, &c.),
7, 8, 10, 12, 13, 15, 16 {spuere)y 25
{caelumy &c.), 36, 44, 47, 165 (‘mollia
et ventosa flagella’), 191, 259, 269;
Maltese 259; Manx 221, 225; mean-
ing 125; N before a consonant 5;
North Country 8, 15, 36, 191 {see
above Lancashire) ; onomatopoetic 5,
7; ploughing 237; Romance 47, 274;
Sanskrit 36 ; Scotch 5,11; Shropshire
160; sk and sc 46; slang 10, 15, 16;
Slavonic 36; Teutonic 12, 274; Welsh
34, 258, 263; Yorkshire 49
Select list of words: bore 10; braids
190; bug-bear 36; bushy 46; ‘cads’ 133;
chouse 16; clamy clammy, cling, clarty,
clay 8, 15; clamp 155; concelebrate 163;
corn 4; cover 50; crack 5; crank 5;
crook, crick 5; crown 4; dank, damp 44;
dhu 1 57 dish 46 ; drill, trill i o ; drip 191;
dujfer 15; earwig 9, ^7\fadge 16; ‘fash*
5; fick 49; 1 2 ; 1 1 ; flaw, flare
fledge 11; flick ii, 12; flow ii;
flower 1 3 ; fluster, flutter 1 1 ; fly, flee 1 1 ;
folds 1 91; fond on 16; foot 7; gaily,
gallow 16; grin 4; grind 5, 7, 10 ; greet,
grief 5; grindlestone 191; goblin 36;
growth 4; grunt 7; gulf, golf 25; gust
10; hail 7; hale, haul 12; hawk 15;
heal, hale 1 2 ; hernshaw 1 2 ; hold, hilt 1 2 ;
579
INDEX OF WORDS AND SUBJECTS
Words, language {contd)
hollow, hold, hell 12, 25; horn 4, 5;
hump, hunk 44; keel 12, 31 ; lather 1 1 ;
lazy 15; lead igi; lum 21 1; maid,
mead 4; milk 13; ‘mizmaze’ xg; mucus
16; naus 13; . . nuts to him* g;
neatherd 13; nesh 160; ‘nibs* 154, 155;
non 3 ; opiniatrety 1 7 ; peak 47 ; pregnant
16; premim 10; pudder 17; put ig;
reech, reek 204; renew 25; row 50; sail
211; scoff 25; school 12, 25, 32, 254;
‘scout* 6 & n.; shadow 12; shaw 12;
shear, shower 12; shell 25, 31, 32;
‘shrimpled up’ 167; skill 25, 31;
skim 12; skip 12; skull 12, 25, 31, 32;
slip spit 16; steel, star 47; stickles
219; suant 251; tall 10; than, then 13;
tire 10; twig 47; twirc, twiring 47,
Words, language {contd)
18 1 ; wade 25; wants 185; ‘when as’
22; whisket 190; wick, wig 47; wick
49; mging 9, 47
Select words used by H arc indexed
separately: see accidented, Bidding,
burl, cads, canting, entasis, flix,
flush, foredraw, forepitch, frank,
gadroon, globeish, idiom, inlaw,
inscape, inset, install, instress, jod-
jodding, jut-jotted, margaretted, off-
scape, outscape, Ploughtail, quain,
scape, scopeless, screw-set, scuppled,
scurl, sided, splay, stalled, stands,
stress, swaled, throes, tretted, turpid,
versed
World: bole, burl and roundness 251;
sea warped to the round 222
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