of biography, but from such materials as could be collected from magazines and other equally unauthentic sources. In one of these versions a notable mistake occurs, occasioned by the French pronunciation of an English word. The whole passage indeed, in both versions, may be regarded as curiously exemplifying the difference between French and English poetry. "The lamps and tapers now grew pale, But in the stream of light the speckled motes Floated with mazy movement. Sloping down As in a momentary interval, espères en moi pour abréger et adoucir ton supplice, temporaire, pardonne moi d'avoir, sous ces habits et dans cette nuit, détourné mes pensées sur d'autres devoirs. Notre patrie commune a exige de moi ce sacrifice, et ton fils doit dorénavant accomplir plus d'une ville dans la profondeur des forêts sur la cime des monts, dans les plaines couvertes de tentes, observant, pour l'amour de l'Espagne, la marche des astres de la nuit, et préparant l'ouvrage de sa journée avant que le soleil ne commence sa course."- T. i. pp. 175—177. In the other translation the motes are not converted into moths, but the image is omitted. Consumées dans des soins pareils les rapides heures s'écouloient, les lampes et les torches commençoient à pâlir, et l'oblique rayon du matin doroit déjà les vitraux élevés qui regardoient vers l'Orient: le retour du jour ne ramenoit point, dans cette sombre enceinte, les sons joyeux, ni le tableau mourant de la vie qui se reveille; mais, tombant d'en haut, le céleste rayon, passant au-dessus de l'autel, vint frapper le tombeau de la femme pécheresse. "Ainsi When thought expelling thought, had left his mind | soit-il," s'écria Pelage; “ainsi soit-il, 6 divin Open and passive to the influxes Of outward sense, his vacant eye was there,— Créateur! Puisse ta virifiante bonté verser ainsi le pardon en ce lieu! Que les gémissemens d'une mort pénitente, que mes amères prières ne soient pas arrivées en vain devant la trône de miséricorde! Et toi, qui, de ton séjour de souffrances et de larmes, regardes vers ton fils, pour abréger et soulager tes peines, pardonne, si d'autres devoirs ont rempli les And thou, poor soul, who from the dolorous house heures que cette nuit et cet habit m'enjoignoient de et Il se livrait à toutes ces réflexions, quand la lumière des lampes et des cierges commença à pâlir, que les premières teintes de l'aurore se montrèrent à travers les hautes croisées tournées vers l'orient. Le retour du jour ne ramena point dans ces murs des sons joyeux ni les mouvemens de la vie qui se réveille; les seuls papillons de nuit, agitant leurs ailes pesantes, bourdonnaient encore sous les voites ténébreuses. Bientôt le premier rayon du soleil glissant obliquement par-dessus l'autel, vint s'arrêter sur la tombe de la femme pécheresse, et la lumière du ciel sembla y pénétrer. "Que ce présage s'accomplisse," s'écria Pelage, qui absorbé dans ses méditations, firait en ce moment ses yeux sur le tombeau de sa mere; "Dieu de miséricorde, qu'il en soit ainsi! Puisse ta bonté vivifiante y verser de même le pardon! Que les sanglots de la pénitence expirante, et que mes prières amères ne montent point en vain devant le trone éternel. Et toi, pauvre âme, qui de ton séjour douloureux de souffrances et de larmes, *See page 667, col. 2. te consacrer! Notre patrie exigeoit ce sacrifice; d'autres vigiles m'attendent dans les bois et les défilés de nos montagnes; et bientôt sous la tente, il me faudra veiller, le soir, avant que le ciel ne se couvre d'étoiles, être prêt pour le travail du jour, avant que le soleil ne commence sa course.' - Pp. 92, 93. A very good translation, in Dutch verse, was published in two volumes, 8vo, 1823-4, with this title: :-"Rodrigo de Goth, Koning van Spanje. Naar het Engelsch van Southey gevolgd, door Vrouwe Katharina Wilhelmina Bilderdijk. Te 's Gravenhage." It was sent to me with the following epistle from her husband, Mr. Willem Bilderdijk. "Roberto Southey, viro spectatissimo, Gulielmus Bilderdijk, S. P. D. "Etsi ea nunc temporis passim invaluerit opinio, poetarum genus quam maxima gloriæ cupiditate flagrare, mihi tamen contraria semper insedit persuasio, qui divinæ Poëseos altitudinem veramque laudem non nisi ab iis cognosci putavi quorum præ cæteris e meliori luto finxerit præcordia Titan, neque aut verè aut justè judicari vatem nisi ab iis qui eodem afflatu moveantur. Sexagesimus autem jam agitur annus ex quo et ipse meos inter æquales poëta salutor, eumque locum quem ineunte adolescentia occupare contigit, in hunc usque diem tenuisse videor, popularis auræ nunquam captator, quin immo perpetuus contemptor; parcus ipse laudator, censor gravis et nonnunquam molestus. "I have read Roderick over and over again, and am the more and more convinced that it is the noblest epic poem of the age. I have had some correspondence and a good deal of conversation with Mr. Jeffrey about it, though he does not agree with me in every particular. He says it is too long, and wants elasticity, and will not, he fears, be generally read, though much may be said in its favor. I had even teased him to let me review it for him, on account, as I said, that he could not appreciate its merits. I copy one sentence out of the letter he sent in answer to mine: — Tuum vero nomen, Vir celeberrime ac spectatis- see by the Papers, and if I may believe some comsime, jam antea veneratus, perlecto tuo de Roderi- munications that I have got, the public opinion of co rege poëmate, non potui non summis extollere it is high; but these communications to an author laudibus, quo doctissimo simul ac venustissimo are not to be depended on. opere, si minus divinam Aeneida, saltem immortalem Tassonis Epopeiam tentasse, quin et certo respectu ita superasse videris, ut majorum perpaucos, æqualium neminem, cum vera fide ac pietate in Deum, tum ingenio omnique poëtica dote tibi comparandum existimem. Ne mireris itaque, carminis tui gravitate ac dulcedine captam, meoque judicio fultam, non illaudatam in nostratibus Musam tuum illud nobile poëma fœminea manu sed non insueto labore attrectasse, Belgicoque sermone reddidisse. Hanc certe, per quadrantem seculi et quod excurrit felicissimo connubio mihi junctam, meamque in Divina arte alumnam ac sociam, nimium in eo sibi sumpsisse nemo facile arbitrabitur cui vel minimum Poëseos nostræ sensum usurpare contigerit; nec ego hos ejus conatus quos illustri tuo nomini dicandos putavit, tibi mea manu offerre dubitabam. Hæc itaque utriusque nostrum in te observantiæ specimina accipe, Vir illustrissime, ac si quod communium studiorum, si quod veræ pie-posed to give Southey a lavish allowance of praise; tatis est vinculum, nos tibi ex animo habe addictissimos. Vale. "For Southey I have, as well as you, great respect, and when he will let me, great admiration; but he is a most provoking fellow, and at least as conceited as his neighbor Wordsworth. I cannot just trust you with his Roderick; but I shall be extremely happy to talk over that and other kindred subjects with you; for I am every way dis and few things would give me greater pleasure than to find he had afforded me a fair opportunity. "Dabam Lugduni in Batavis. Ipsis idib. But I must do my duty according to my own apFebruar. CIOƆCCCXXIV." prehensions of it.' I went to Leyden in 1825, for the purpose of seeing the writer of this epistle, and the lady who had translated my poem, and addressed it to me in some very affecting stanzas. It so happened, that on my arrival in that city, I was laid up under a surgeon's care; they took me into their house, and made the days of my confinement as pleasurable as they were memorable. I have never been acquainted with a man of higher intellectual power, nor of greater learning, nor of more various and extensive knowledge than Bilderdijk, confessedly the most distinguished man of letters in his own country. His wife was worthy of him. I paid them another visit the following year. They are now both gone to their rest, and I shall not look upon their like again. "I supped with him last night, but there was so many people that I got but little conversation with him; but what we had was solely about you and Wordsworth. I suppose you have heard what a crushing review he has given the latter. I still found him persisting in his first asseveration, that it was heavy; but what was my pleasure to find that he had only got to the seventeenth division! I assured him he had the marrow of the thing to come at as yet, and in that I was joined by Mr. Alison. There was at the same time a Lady Mjoined us at the instant; short as her remark was, it seemed to make more impression on Jeffrey than all our arguments: - 'Oh, I do love Southey!' that was all. "I have no room to tell you more. But I beg that you will not do any thing, nor publish any Soon after the publication of Roderick, I re-thing that will nettle Jeffrey for the present, ceived the following curious letter from the Ettrick knowing, as you do, how omnipotent he is with the Shepherd, (who had passed a few days with me in fashionable world, and seemingly so well disposed the preceding autumn,) giving me an account of toward you. his endeavors to procure a favorable notice of the poem in the Edinburgh Review. "MY DEAR SIR, "Edinburgh, Dec. 15, 1814. "I was very happy at seeing the post-mark of Keswick, and quite proud of the pleasure you make me believe my "Wake" has given to the beauteous and happy group at Greta Hall. Indeed, few things could give me more pleasure, for I left my heart a sojourner among them. I have had a higher opinion of matrimony since that period than ever I had before; and I desire that you will positively give my kindest respects to each of them individually. "I am ever yours most truly, "I wish the Notes may be safe enough. I never looked at them. I wish these large quartoes were all in hell burning." The reader will be as much amused as I was with poor Hogg's earnest desire that I would not say any thing which might tend to frustrate his friendly intentions. But what success the Shepherd met, There can be no reason, however, for withhold "The Pilgrim of the Sun is published, as you will ing what was said in my reply of the crushing re view which had been given to Mr. Wordsworth's | ORPAS,.. KESWICK, 15 June, 1838. ORIGINAL PREFACE. THE history of the Wisi-Goths for some years before their overthrow is very imperfectly known. It is, however, apparent that the enmity between the royal families of Chindasuintho and Wamba was one main cause of the destruction of the kingdom, the latter party having assisted in betraying their country to the Moors for the gratification of their own revenge. Theodofred and Favila were younger sons of King Chindasaintho; King Witiza, who was of Wamba's family, put out the eyes of Theodofred, and murdered Favila, at the instigation of that Chieftain's wife, with whom he lived in adultery. Pelayo, the son of Favila, and afterwards the founder of the Spanish monarchy, was driven into exile. Roderick, the son of Theodofred, recovered the throne, and put out Witiza's eyes in vengeance for his father; but he spared Orpas, the brother of the tyrant, as being a Priest, and Ebba and Sisibert, the two sons of Witiza, by Pelayo's mother. It may be convenient thus briefly to premise these circumstances of an obscure portion of history, with which few readers can be supposed to be familiar; and a list of the principal persons who are introduced, or spoken of, may as properly be prefixed to a Poem as to a Play. WITIZA, SISIBERT, ЕЕВА, NUMACIAN, ... ... ... brother to Witiza, and formerly Archbishop of Seville, now a renegade. sons of Witiza and of Pelayo's mother. . a renegade, governor of Gegio. COUNT JULIAN, ... a powerful Lord among the Wisi-Goths, now a renegade. FLORINDA, ....... his daughter, violated by King Roderick. LONG had the crimes of Spain cried out to Heaven: King of the Wisi-Goths; dethroned and Descend. A countless multitude they came; Syrian, Moor, Saracen, Greek renegade, THEODOFRED,.... son of King Chindasuintho, blinded by Persian, and Copt, and Tatar, in one bond FAVILA,.... blinded by Roderick. King Witiza. his brother; put to death by Witiza. The Wife of Favila, Witiza's adulterous mistress. (These four persons are dead before the action of the poem commences.) Of erring faith conjoin'd, - strong in the youth the last King of the Wisi-Goths; son Drunk as with wine, had sanctified to them of Theodofred. .. the founder of the Spanish Monarchy; son of Favila. RODERICK,.. PELAYO,. GAUDIOSA, his wife. .. his sister. ... his son. GUISLA, FAVILA, HERMESIND, RUSILLA, COUNT PEDRO, COUNT EUDON, ALPHONSO, URBAN, ROMANO, ABDALAZIZ, his daughter. Thou, Calpe, saw'st their coming; ancient Rock Renown'd, no longer now shalt thou be call'd From Gods and Heroes of the years of yore, Kronos, or hundred-handed Briareus, widow of Theodofred, and mother of Bacchus, or Hercules; but doom'd to bear Roderick. powerful Lords of Cantabria. Count Pedro's son, afterwards King. Archbishop of Toledo. The name of thy new conqueror, and thenceforth Thou saw'st the dark-blue waters flash before a Monk of the Caulian Schools, near Their swarthy myriads darkening o'er thy sands. Merida. the Moorish governor of Spain. formerly the wife of Roderick, now of [Abdalaziz. EGILONA, ABULCACEM, ALCAHMAN, AYUB, Moorish Chiefs. IBRAHIM, MAGUED, There, on the beach, the Misbelievers spread Curl their long flags outrolling, and display Then fell the kingdom of the Goths; their hour Was come, and Vengeance, long withheld, went loose. Famine and Pestilence had wasted them, His horned helmet and enamell'd mail, Evening closed round to favor him. All night As from perpetual springs, forever flow'd. Eminent, had mark'd his presence. Did the Yea, to his eyes more dreadful than the fiends stream Receive him with the undistinguish'd dead, Who flock'd like hungry ravens round his head,— Christian and Moor, who clogg'd its course that With her abhorrent hands, Still in her face, which, when the deed was done, So thought the Conqueror; and from that day forth, Inflicted on her ravisher the curse He bade the river bear the name of Joy. So thought the Goths; they said no prayer for him, Bravely in that eight-days' fight The King had striven, - for victory first, while hope Remain'd, then desperately in search of death. That it invoked from Heaven. - Oh, what a night Nor sacred pageant, with like multitudes Less dreadful than this view And God's redeeming love, which fain would save He turn'd aside, unable to endure The guilty soul alive. 'Twas agony, And yet 'twas hope; - a momentary light, Of lightning, smote him. From his horse he dropp'd, Glued there with Moorish gore. His royal robe, This burden of the general woe; nor walls, A rock of surer strength. Unknowing where, morn Till night, he travell'd thus; the forest oaks, Fed on the vintage, gave him food; the hand Of Heaven was on him, and the agony And suffocating thoughts repress'd the word, And shudderings like an ague-fit, from head Which wrought within, supplied a strength beyond | To foot convulsed him; till at length, subduing All natural force of man. When the eighth eve Four days and nights he thus had pass'd alone, Before the Cross Roderick had thrown himself; his body raised, Half kneeling, half at length he lay; his arms Embraced its foot, and from his lifted face Tears streaming down bedew'd the senseless stone. He had not wept till now; and at the gush Of these first tears, it seem'd as if his heart, From a long winter's icy thrall let loose, Had open'd to the genial influences Of Heaven. In attitude, but not in act Of prayer he lay; an agony of tears Was all his soul could offer. When the Monk Beheld him suffering thus, he raised him up, And took him by the arm, and led him in ; And there, before the altar, in the name Of Him whose bleeding image there was hung, Spake comfort, and adjured him in that name There to lay down the burden of his sins. Lo said Romano, I am waiting here The coming of the Moors, that from their hands My spirit may receive the purple robe Of martyrdom, and rise to claim its crown. That God who willeth not the sinner's death Hath led thee hither. Threescore years and five, Even from the hour when I, a five-years' child, Enter'd the schools, have I continued here, And served the altar: not in all those years Hath such a contrite and a broken heart Appear'd before me. O my brother, Heaven Hath sent thee for thy comfort, and for mine, That my last earthly act may reconcile A sinner to his God. Then Roderick knelt Before the holy man, and strove to speak. Thou seest, he cried, thou seest, but memory His nature to the effort, he exclaim'd," A human eye upon his shame, - Thou seest Raised to the Monk, like one who from his voice All night the old man They went forth; To lay their siege advanced; the eastern breeze The fourth week of their painful pilgrimage Was full, when they arrived where from the land A rocky hill, rising with steep ascent, O'erhung the glittering beach; there, on the top, A little, lowly hermitage they found, And a rude Cross, and at its foot a grave, |