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PRPTATOnV V'^'^''' 

Tn ttandanl and iadiipwu^tie aaltiontj on the lil« of 

Uaanris the workof th« latoMr. Joka Vonter. rix. .-— 

1. Fowm, Jolui; Wallar 8«Tng« Lnador. n Kogmphy, 

Lottdoa. CbnpiMUi and HnQ; find •dfikioB in 2 volai. 

1869 ; aeeond «di4Ma, nbrid^ad, forming roL L of tli* 

<«II«ei«d " Iif« nnd Worksof WnH«r SnTa«« Lnndor" 

inSToliL, 1878. 

Mr. Fowt<r wnnn p po into d by Lander hi— rifnahklittmiT 

•meator} hn hnd oowimnnd of nil Ihn nww aa nij nMfttorinla 

for hia talk, and Ua book ia writtaa with knowladg*. in. 

dnatfj, aflMlioa, nnd toynlly ol pvpooa. Bat it ia earn- 

broaain eoiaiMt. in ooa tla aira in oritaeinn, nnd rafaa oa 

vilnl pofarta, aapacinMy oa poiata of bibKofrnfihy, whieh in 

tha enaa of Lnndor ni« frvqaantlr both intarsating and 

obararv. Tha atadaat of Lnndor maal aa p p l waa at tha work 

nf Mr. F e r il ar froai oth«r aoareaa,of wUah tha priaeifinl nra 

tha foUowinff t— ' 

t. Hwr. J. E. Laifh. Lord ^froa nad hk ooatwapwama . 

:t. Ttiiniatna. MnigatwIaiiConBliai oCThaMlar in Itnly. 
2 mla., Leadoa. 189BL Ladgr Bbniagtoa'a trat iai> 
prMMoaa of Laador nra l apot i ad in roL iL of tha 
nbora t har oorm|MadMwa w^ hiai,aad na louHpnnnr 
Co a rara rt ioa by Lnndor not abawhar* raprinfetd. will 
4. Mamwx. R. &.. Tha Litivaiy Lift nad Cormpoadvaea 
ofthaCoantaaaof Blaancloa.Sroliu LoateplDM. 
v. Tha Xaw Spiritof tha Af«, adilad by B. H. Bora*. 
S Tok. Loadea, 1844 Tha nitiala oa Laador ia 
roL i. oT tha ahova ia by Mia Bnnatt. aflaraardi Xri. 
BrcMnuiMr. «afif)lrBMttt«d br tb* «ditor. 


6. Emerson, R. W., English Traits. London, 1856. 

7. Field, Kate, Last Days of Walter Savage Landor, a 

series of three articles in the Atlantic Monthly Maga- 
zine for 1866. 

8. Robinson, H. Crabbe, Diary, Reminiscences, and Corre- 

spondence of, edited by Thomas Sadler, 3 vols. 
London, 1869. 

9. Dickens, Charles : A short article on Forster's " Bio- 

graphy " in All the Year Round for 1869, supplement- 
ing with some strikingphysiognomic touches the picture 
of Landor drawn by the same hand in " Bleak House " 
(see below, p. 178). 

10. Linton, Mrs. E. Lynn : Reminiscences of Walter 

Savage Landor, in Eraser's Magazine for July, 1870 ; 
by far the best account of the period of Landor's life 
to which it refers. 

11. Houghton, Lord : Monographs. London, 1873. 

I forbear to enumerate the various articles on Landor and 
his works which I have consulted in reviews and magazines 
between the dates 1798 and 1870; several of the most important 
are mentioned in the text. In addition to the materials which 
exist in print, I have had the advantage of access to some 
unpublished. To Mr. Robert Browning in particular my 
thanks are due for his great kindness in allowing me to make 
use of the collection of books and manuscripts left him by 
Landor, including Landor's own annotated copies of some 
of his rarest writings, and a considerable body of his occa- 
sional jottings and correspondence. Mr. Augustus J. C. Hare 
was also good enough to put into my hands a number of 
letters written by Landor to his father and to himself. To 
Lord Houghton I am indebted for help of various kinds, and 
to Mr. Swinburne for his most friendly pains in looking 
through the sheets of my work, and for many valuable 
suggestions and corrections. 



IvnuiKxrm ui Ufb amp Pocnv — Qtmm . 16 



Lint A. <•■»— Pmu- iMuuBnoi • 


i.iti . f k!v I Tilt Tii»« I'^TiKT Cosrwa»*tu*>' v^ 


Fuaots A»» RjnL*»^-TBB SaAJiiXATiox Of SafcMr t i w 

PsatcXM AJW AtrMi> T»k Pty-tAnuc^ IS3 




Life at Bath — Dramas— Hellenics — Last Fruit— Dky 
Sticks 171 

Second Exile and Last Days — Heroic Idyls — Death . . 206 

CotfCLUSlON 217 





Fiw men have ever uupreawd their peers so much, or the 
gMMnl pohlie so UUk, m Waltbb Savage Liiroom. Of 
■U ciMmtod trthWT^ he he* hitherto been one of the 
ImH popokr. ITtrntlMlaM ha u amoog Um aoil flak- 
ii« i««m im tiM kirtoiy of E^lkk KlanlaM; alKikiiig 
alike by hiiehiiMleraad hit powMi. PwaonftUy, Landor 
•zaieind tlM apaU of gMuni vpoa arwy om vho oaaa 
•Mr hitt. Hk gifta. ittiii«a«ta, iiqpalMaitiaa, Ui 
ocigiaatitj. hia foree, hta ehars, van all ^ the aanta 
c oMptBiM m aad imfomt^ kivL Kol to kaoar whi* k 
to ba kaovs of 80 iMMrinbb a Bn k oridaatijr to ba a 
kaar. Nol to ba ImUm with tha voiki of ao aohb 
a wntar k to ba amok aon oCa Inaararill 

Ika plaea oeeopkd by Laador — of FnjKah aaa of 
kHHi k a pkaa apaii. Ha wioto oa aaaj aa h| x >" »mI 
iaaMiajr fooM^aBd waa atmag both ia iwagiaaHna aad 
ia iiiiliiiki Ha waa aqoaOy aaalar of Latia aad Eag* 
Ikb, aad aqpHlity at hoaa k pioaa aad tataa. Ha 

2 LANDOE. [chap. 

properly be associated with any given school, or indeed 
with any given epoch, of our literature, as epochs are 
usually counted, but stands alone, alike by the character 
of his mind and by the tenour and circumstances of his 
life. It is not easy to realize that a veteran who sur- 
vived to receive the homage of Mr. Swinburne, can 
have been twenty-five years old at the death of Cowper, 
and forty-nine at the death of Byron. Such, however, 
was the case of Landor. It is less than seventeen years 
since he died, and less than eighteen since he published 
his last book; his first book had been published before 
Buonaparte was consul. His literary activity extended, to 
be precise, over a period of sixty-eight years (1795 — 
1863). Neither was his career more remarkable for its 
duration than for its proud and consistent independence. 
It was Landor's strength as well as his weakness that he 
was all his life a law to himseK, writing in conformity 
with no standards and in pursuit of no ideals but his 

So strong, indeed, was this instinct of originality in 
Landor that he declines to fall in with the thoughts or 
to repeat the words of others even when to do so would 
be most natural. Though an insatiable and retentive 
reader, in his own writing he does not choose to deal in the 
friendly and commodious currency of quotation, allusion, 
and reminiscence. Everything he says must be his own 
and nothing but his own. On the other hand it is no part 
of Landor's originality to provoke attention, as many even 
of illustrious writers have done, by emphasis or singularity 
of style. Arbitrary and vehement beyond other men in 
many of his thoughts, in their utterance he is always 
sober and decorous. He delivers himself of whatever is 
in his mind with an air, to borrow an expression of his 


own, ** miy«iicall J aedatc." <Vgiuii, althoo^ in myia^ 
what b« ohooMt to mj Uador it om of th« dmnt/L aad 
■KMi diiwl of wiiten, it k hk plaMon to Utsn moeh 
anHid of thai whkh niftk«i ordinary writing easy and 
•SwttTa. Ua ia ao audooa to armd aaying wbal ia 
aqwioooa that ha doaa not always aay what ia iiimiiwaiy. 
Aa aoon a« ha haa giran adaqnata axpraarion to any 

OTMtiniai to iMika dear to the reader the commion of hia 
idaaa with one another 

Tbaaa yHtiaa of onbeaouig onguuuiiy, ot iotty weii- 
w ntf^ A j and of dslihatiila paniBMBy in vltanBoe^ aie 
oTidantly not the qoalitaea to carry the world by atom. 
y aithar did Landor aiqtaet to eany the worid by atom. 
Ha wrote lav for tha mJ» of plaaaiflf othan than hiiMall 
Ha addieaaad a aeanty aodieaoa while he liTed, bnt kdced 
with enaM a no a to one that ahodd be noea 
in the flitaio, althongh not nay naaMaooa 
"^lahaUdinabU; bat the dinii^roora will 
be weU-lightad, the gnaata fow and aateek** IntlMOMan- 
tioM LAndof eoMtanlad hinaalf with the uxdame he faaJt 
and oooaidaring whanea that iiiplaMa caaMi ha had indeed 
good laaaoK to be eoataai Hia aady poem of Gthir 
waa the daKghi int of Sonthey and allarwaida of ShaUay. 
who at aollifa wad to rtaiiiiiia it with an inlhiniiwi 
which iliwiiMiaartait hk frkBd% and which yean did not 
dimini«h. The adaintinii of 8o«lhay for Laodort poatiy 
led the way to an mdMt a»d lailii« friiwfaUp hatwean 
the two Ban. By Woidrrath Laodar waa Nfaidad leaa 
warmly than by 8oathay. yet with a leapect which he 
•xtndad to aeaieelj any othar wntar of hk time. 
HadiU. «1m> lored Woriawortk liMla and floithaj ki^ 
and on whoaa daanat pnd&HUaM Laador rrrprii^ y 

• 9 

4 LANDOE. [chap. 

trampled, nevertheless acknowledged the force of his 
genius. Charles Lamb was at one time as great a 
reader and quoter ol Gehir as Shelley himself, and at 
another could not dismiss from his mind or lips the 
simple cadences of one of Landor's elegies. De Quincey 
declared that his Count Julian Avas a creation worthy 
to take rank beside the Prometheus of iEschylus, or 
Milton's Satan. As the successive volumes of his 
Iinaginary Conversations appeared, they seemed to some 
of the best minds of the time to contain masterpieces 
almost uniDrecedented not only of English composition, 
but of insight, imagery, and reflection. The society of 
their author was sought and cherished by the most dis- 
tinguished of his countrymen. The members of the 
scholar family of Hare, and those of the warrior family of 
Xapier, were among his warmest admirers and closest 
friends. Coming down to a generation of which the 
survivors are still with us, Dickens, Carlyle, Emerson, 
Lord Houghton, Eobert and Elizabeth Browning, have 
been among those who have delighted to honour him ; 
and the list might be brought down so as to include 
names of all degrees of authority and standing. While 
the multitude has ignored Landor, he has been for 
three generations teaching and charming those who in 
their turn have taught and charmed the multitude. 

By his birthplace, as he loved to remember, Landor was 
a neighbour of the greatest English poets. He was born 
at Warwick on the 30th of January, 1775. He was proud 
of his lineage, and fond of collecting evidences of its 
antiquity. His family had in fact been long one of pro- 
perty and position in Staffordshire. He believed that it 
had originally borne the name of Del-a La'ud or De la 
Laundes, and that its descent could be traced back for 


kwdMd ymn; fcr abiMt ImV UmI toM^ Mid his 
kncratalowor iMiMfliMliTvlMllMK WlMtli 
teiAiitlHl«MM of Iki BliftvdiUn Lndon kid 
ihiwliii Imiil nf in thi tw oTKi^KUMl 
A wirig Lndor ImmI htm higli abvif of Um eoaalf H 
tiMlUmlatiiMioriMS; ImtnndMrn on tiMoHMrlMad 
vMft aiAMliMafer hit leMuag^ lovaidt lh« howt oT 
Staul A MioftUtJaeobiteLMMiorhiiighMdorth* 
iuaUy in th« bttw pvi of Um kit Miitaiy, ww al Um 
MM Um* ««i^ in Um pmeliM of MdidiM at Wanri^ 
Thb Dr. Luidor WM Waller Sav^e Luidoi^ iithtf. 

Of Dr. Laador Um aeeouHa whioh hava naahad na aia M( 
aaflfli«t to eoQTvy any Teiy daiaita iinaga> Hia maaMrjr 
a«rfhiaaa|yaathatofa polMh i d ,aoaiahla^t ffa aa h la^a oeM 
what eholatie ganUiaii, mom aeeoMpKUMd and baMar 
adoeateJ, aa his pioliMrinii Mq[aiMd, than moat of thoM 
viUi whoM ha iMneialiit, hrt uUwiaiMdirt^^ owfaH, 
talli^ hii aloi7 nd diiddiV hii hoMa viUMiil pvtiedBr 
diaUaetian aaong tha nat L^jwchu; doeim*^ Utrnnli^. 

Ibr hb apitaph bf Ui odm WallM and Boba*l» hoUi of 
thoM Man exaek in va^^dag wocda. Dc Laador wm 
twiea iMniad, fiat ton ICm Wiighl of Warwtdc, aad aflar 
har dMUi to EUMbalh Swrafa, of Um Warwickahin iuafl J 
of tho 8«v^M of Taehhrook. By hia fint wifi ho had 
iiz ohihina, aU of vhoM, hovorar, diad ia iafnay OBOipl 
^i^Mar. B)yhfeaaaeadvifihalMdaMoaoaBaad 
dai^t«a; aad of thia aaaoad tenly Wahor SaToga 
WM tha aldait boia. Both tha fint aad tha aMead 

wi?M of Dfcl^adM woMhiii ia thair dagwa. Iha 

jh rta ao of tha iiat da T o lr ad by lattlaMaai afwa hvaaiTiT* 
iag < langhtM, who wm ia dao Umo Maniad lo a 
Haaylnay Aidia of luiwoft ■ ThoftMiiyof 

6 LANDOR. [chap. 

that of the Savages of Tachbrook, was of better certified 
antiquity and distinction than his own, though the proofs* 
by which "Walter Savage Landor used to associate Avith it 
certain historical personages bearing the same name were 
of a somewhat shadowy nature. The father of Elizabeth 
Savage had been lineally the head of his house, but the 
paternal inheritance which she divided with her three 
sisters was not considerable, the family estates having 
passed, it seems, into the hands of two of her grand-uncles, 
men of business in London. By these there was be- 
queathed to her, after her marriage with Dr. Landor, pro- 
perty to the value of nearly eighty thousand pounds, con- 
sisting of the two estates of Ipsley Court and Tachbrook 
in Warwickshire, the former on the borders of Worcester- 
shire, the latter close to Leamington, together with a share 
of the reversionary interest in a third estate — that of 
Hugheuden Manor in Buckinghamshire — of Avhich the 
name has since become familiar to us from other associa- 
tions. The Warwickshire properties thus left to J\Irs. 
Landor, as Avell as Dr. Lander's own family property in 
Staffordshire, were strictly entailed upon the eldest male 
issue of the marriage ; so that to these united possessions 
Walter Savage Landor was born heir. 

'No one, it should seem ever entered life under happier 
conditions. To the gifts of breeding and of fortune there 
were added at his birth the gifts of genius and of strength. 
But there had been evil godmothers beside the cradle as 
■ well as good, and in the composition of this powerful nature 
pride, anger, and precipitancy had been too largely mixed, 
to the prejudice of a noble intellect and tender heart, and 
to the disturbance of all his relations with his fellow-men. 
Of his childhood no minute record has come down to 
us. It seems to have been marked by neither the pre- 


MeMw nor the iaimttiM of fgnint, ladMd, ahboo^ 
!• cteisltfb T i **v*^ ond oAm to emplaiii of tihMBli^ of 
Miiow iaflmitiot ho Inww Kttio oU hk doyi. Hk 
noUior, wboM lore for her children wm aolicitoot and 
pnidoal nthar thta poirinmto or mj Unim, only oaeo 
hod oecMioB far Mudoty M tothohfldlh of hor oldorthon. 
This WM whon ho wm Miaed in his twelfth ymt with o 
rioloBl irttMk, nol of any ehildiah malody, bat of goat ; 
on iMoek iHueh tho boy oodored, it M Mid, with donorooo 
TM— tilt and imratkmro ; and whidi noror alierwardi 

Ho had bien tent m a child of <mly foar-aBd-*>half to 
aodioolat Knowle, toimilMfromhomoi Harahoatayad 
Ito yoan or moco, until ho wm old anoogli to go to 
Bagfay. iffia holidaya wera apaat balvMU hia fiuhei^a 
proCHBonal aboda in tho town of Warwick, and 
ooa or othar of tho two ooantiy hoooM on tho Sango 
aatatoi^ Ipoloy Cooii and Taehbiook. To thMO hoBM of 
hia boyhood Landor wm aeeoiloawd all his life to look 
back with tha moai affontfanato WMawbtanoa. Ha had 
arstaathra aiaaory far plaeai^ aad a g^aat lova of troM 
aad flowook Tho aralbaRias^ eadan^ and tgtraM of 
tho Warwidi gMdaa, tho ani^walk aad aprieoto of 
Taehbiook, aftudad hia joya whidi ho aerar allarwaida 
kKgBL Of Warwiekhawritai^iBhiBaavwty-alghthyaar, 
thai ha hM Jait pfekad op from tha gmTol walk tha two 
intmlbaBiM that hata faWan, a thii^ ha iMambaca 
hariflg doaa jart wf ly jmn bafeca : aad of TMh- 
brook, ia hia Mta aty ^M i a u th, «* WaU do I laoMMbM il 
fraMaiythiidorfoaHhyMr;aadthoMdfiIbartat tha lop 
of thagnte,aad tha aprieolB tMm tha bam wall, aad 
Anal NaMjanekiag tha ateaM far OML IflshoaUorwMt 
aprieola with yoa again, I shall not now oy far tho 

8 LANDOE. [chap. 

For Ipsley and its encircling stream the pleasantest ex- 
pression of Lander's aifection is contained in some unpulj-^ 
lished verses, which may find their place here, although 
they refer to a later period of his youth. 

I hope in vain to see again 

Ipsley's peninsular domain. 
In youth 'twas there I used to scare 

A whirring bird or scampering hare, 
And leave my book within a nook 

Where alders lean above the brook, 
To walk beyond the third mill-pond, 

And meet a maiden fair and fond 
Erpecting me beneath a tree 

Of shade for two but not for three. 
Ah ! my old yew, far out of view, 

Wliy must I bid you both adieu. 

This love of trees, flowers, and places went along in the 
boy with a love of hooks. He was proficient in school 
exercises, all except arithmetic, an art which, " according 
to the method in use," he never suceeded in mastering. 
At Eugby, where he went at ten, he was soon among the 
best Latin scholars ; and he has recorded his delight over 
the first purchase of English books he made with his own 
money ; the books in question being Drayton's Polyolhion 
and Baker's Chronicle. He teUs elsewhere how the writer 
who first awoke in him the love of poetry was Cowper. 
He seems from the first to have been a greedy reader, even 
to the injury of his power of sleep. " I do not remember," 
he writes among his unpublished jottings, " that I ever 
slept five hours consecutively, rarely four, even in boy- 
hood. I was much of a reader of night, and was once 
flogged for sleeping at the evening lesson, Avhich I had 
learnt, but having mastered it, I dozed." 

This bookish boy was at the same time physically 
strong and active, though not particularly dexterous. 

k] SCHOOL. • 

Diaeiag, to hit own grtal ehagiiD, ha Mold aivtr kara, 
■ikI OB hoiwback hit head waa too full of thon^ta to 
allow him aiac^ to miad hia riding. At hoziag^ erickat, 
aad fooihaB, ha eodd hold hia own walL Bot tha apart 
ha lovad waa Adiliig with a eati-iiat ; atthia ha waa really 
ddlfal,aad apt in tha pamui to hiaak booadaawl fat 
into tMMihla. Ona day ha waa nqpoitad for haring flng 
hia n«t orer, and tie t otioa J y hald a^ptira, a (anner who 
triad to intadtea with hia paatiaBt ; anothar day, for 
having aoEleitad a noarinal piawltainn to ftdi whan ha had 
no aort ci hiitinf fron a patting hntditr who had no 
ant of anthority to giva it A fig^ whoaa vnlocky alar 
ha had dwaan all ooa aftttnooB to lagud at thacanaaof 
hit bad tpQ>t» lamamband all hit liie Laador'a aoddtn 
ahanga eldaananoor, and hit own poigntnt rtlit^ whan 
tha taking af a hfg fth oanTinaad him that tha taid alar 
waa not nnhidcy aflar aU. lika many imaginaliva hoya 
to whoaa anmmar nraaingi tha poolt and ahaHowa ct 
Si«lkh lowland aliaama hava aatinad aa ftiU of ramanaa 
aa Eni ei a a or Saamandtr, ha lorad nothi^ ao wall 
aa to wandar hy tha hrook-aida^ aoaatinMa with a 
aportang, hot i n rnt Hm ii alao with a alodioaa inlnl Ha 
laeallathaaa piaaamaain a w tet ap ea ti f a paam of hia hiltr 
ycaia, Om am^joimmf Awm mm Btgi^, 


Tk«t«b wWra toft I 

bvM«4 iM^ I MlaA 4own 

Wktt MMt ftdl totahr wla Iha arova I 

Oa kvokta paaca vitk t 

10 LANDOE. [chap. 

Again, one of the most happily turned of all Landor's 
Latin poems expresses his regret that his eldest son, born in'> 
Italy, will never learn to know and love the English 
streams which had been the delight of his own youth. 
And once more, he records how the subject of that most 
perfect of dramatic dialogues, Leofric and Gocliva, had 
first occupied him as a boy. He had written a little poem 
on the subject as he sat by the square pool at Kugby — "May 
the peppermint still be growing on the bank in that place ! " 
— and he remembers the immoderate laughter with which 
his attempt was received by the friend to whom he con- 
fided it, and his own earnestness in beseeching that friend 
not to tell the lads — " so heart-strickenly and desperately 
was I ashamed." 

Landor, it thus appears, had acquired in his earliest 
school days the power and the habit, which remained 
with him until almost the hour of his death, of writing 
verses for his own pleasure both in Latin and English. 
As regards Latin, he is the one known instance in 
which the traditional classical education of our schools 
took full effect, and was carried out to its furthest practical 
consequences. ]^ot only did Latin become in boyhood 
and remain to the last a second mother tongue to him ; his 
ideal of behaviour at the same time modelled itself on the 
ancient Koman, and that not alone in things convenient. 
Not content with taking Cato or Scipio or Brutus for his 
examples, when he was offended he instinctively betook 
himself to the weapons of CatvQlus and Martial. JS'ow a 
schoolboy's alcaics and hendecasyllabics may be never so 
well turned, but if their substance is both coarse and savage, 
and if moreover they are directed against that schoolboy's 
master, the result can hardly be to his advantage. And 
thus it fell out with Landor. He might easily have been 

I.} SCHOOL. 11 

Um prid« of Um Miiiod, for vhatewr w«m Ut fraUs of 
tnnpor, hi* Urilluni wrhnkwhip eoold not fiul to iwom* 
mmd bia to hit tmAtm, nor kk imdy kladiws tofwwdt 
llMwk,ldokighi|iirilaiidnBnof hoBoarto hbooA- 
p o nkW i He vm p ngn a nio M, bat onl j •pinit tho •troi^. 
** Ton i i uuibM, " bo wnt«% m mmm fvms addwwad 
kkir lo ni old idiool 

Too IMIWIIW tlMt I foi«kl 
X«v«r witk aay b«t HI oldw M, 
Aad Mw loM b«t two agbte ia tkiitMB. 

Xcith« would il mneb baT* itood in Landoi'a way tbot 
bb klfy falna of wbat WW doo to buBMif mado bim rafntp. 
at aehool at aitarwanb, to wipata ^painal otfMn for 
piiMB or diatjaetjoaa of any kind. Wbat did stand in 
bia way wai bia boi and laaantfol iapatiaQoa alike of 
oontgadiotfcm and of antbority. Eaeb balf.JMliday of 
tbo acbool waa by a rtmtimuj Mlm anppoaad to ba given 
aa a reward for tho 0017 of T«nta dedaiad to be the be»t 
of tbe day, and with or withoot leaaoo, Laador eoaeeired 
that tba bead naiter. Dr. JaMa» bad ayatiwaHwJly 
grwdfBd thia lengnitktt to ?ema of bia. A^nMi at ImI 
play-day wm gbw fora eopy of Landoe^a, tbo boy added 
in tnnearibing il a nide poateriplk tolbaaftettlwlitwaa 
tbe wotit ba bad erer written. In other eoMtmreniaa 
that from thne to tioM oeeused between naHter and 
aeholar, thora w«m no* wanting kindlier and aere 
bmnorDna in iiigii than thk But al kil then araee a 
qnarrd over a Latin <inanlity, in which Landor waa qaitr 
ri^ al the onleel, bnl by hie impoMtiflabia Tiolanea pat 
hiMMlf hapaka^y in the 
not only with fierea Mloiti^ bnl with 
aathori^ ^mj Indr aland an end. Thia wm in hk liz- 
teenth yw, when he waa wBUn tre of beii« bead of the 

12 LANDOR. [chap. 

school. The npsliot was that the head master wrote to 
Dr. Lahdor, with many expressions of regret, requesting, 
that his son Walter might be removed, lest he should find 
himself under the necessity of expelling him as one not 
only rebellious himself, but a promoter of rebellion in 

Signs of the same defiant spirit had not been wanting 
in his home life. The seeds seem to have been already 
sown of an estrangement, never afterwards altogether 
healed, between himself and his father. In politics Dr. 
Landor had been originally a zealous "Whig ; biit he was one 
of those Whigs for whom the French Revolution was too 
much. During that crisis he was swept along the stream of 
alarm and indignation which found both voice and nourish- 
ment in the furious eloquence of Burke ; and when the 
party at last broke in two he went with those who deserted 
Fox and became the fervent followers of Pitt. The boyish 
politics of young Landor were of a very different stamp. 
He was already, what he remained to the end of his days, 
an ardent republican and foe to kings. The French Revo- 
lution had little to do with making or unmaking his 
sentiments on these points. His earliest admiration was 
for Washington, his earliest and fiercest aversion for 
George III. And he had no idea of keeping his opinions 
to himself, but would insist on broaching them, no matter 
what the place or company. The young rebel one day 
cried out in his mother's room that he wished the 
French would invade England, and assist us in hanging 
George the Third between two such rascals as the Arch- 
bishops of Canterbury and York ; whereupon that ex- 
cellent lady was seen to rise, box his ears from behind 
his chair, and then hastily make off upon her high-heeled 
shoes for fear of consequences. Again, we hear of his fling- 


ii^ an oupttooM tnnl MiMi the tobl* aft A bitlwp wbo WW 
diidiig with hM frthv, tad w1m> bHl apokMi iiilfhl^ 
IhttehokoihipofFonon. Himrthrifitittartaothewp- 
pond thai Laador, eran in the rawart and moat oombalire 
daja of hia jovth, WM at any tiiBa maitly itt-aoad it k m a d 
in hk bthaYiooc Ha waa aavar without friaada in 
whom tha aigna both of powar and tandauMM which broke 
thaoogh hia muufy waja iMfMiad tha w ira ma t intmaii 
nd alwHoa. Saah fikoda inetadad at this tima tha 
Moat liwi rin g of hia wihnol—lm, aoia than one 
gill aompanioB of Ua ofwn hmStj or thair 
awl aemal aankn of vatioaa otdma aad 
eoaditaooa. Hia principal achool frimda weia Haniy 
Gaiy, ail a i w an U trmihlor of Daola, and Waltar Birch, 
m aeaoatpliahad mholar who baeaoM an Ozlbid tntor aad 
aadad hia daya aft a ooontry Uriag in Eawx. Giria of his 
own ago or oldar foond aomaihing afttacfttve in the pioud 
aad atabbom haj, who for all hia awkw aidn aai aad 
headleag tampor waa ehiralioQa to than, ooold ton tha 
pnHiMt ¥■ ■■■ , aad ao doobtafaa ia a paa ah ehowad ahandj 
aoBM ladiMaBta of that gtaiaa for the art of oooraliaMirt 
which diatii^niihad him b^yoad aU maa ia btar lifc. 
Thaa wa iad him towarda hia tweatiath year la tha habH 
of l aa ai t iag ftom Dorothea lyttaltBB, tha baaattiblorphaa 
heiiam of aitalaa aonMgaoaa to hii home, ailnoa eo a yaya d 
ta tersM balokaaiM tha cknait iatiaMey aad Uadaaak 
Uiahimhaattaahad to Ummlf aa fUaada aha- 
ao oppoaita aa **tha alagaat aad gimuai Dr. 
Skath," oaa of hie Ragby maatma, wtth whoai ha waa 
aafaroa any baft the kindcat team; Mr. Fkrkhant of 
Bippb^a aoaatiy aqiaira aad fcthii of oat of hiaaehool- 
mataa; Md tka teaota Dc Fur, at that time aad fbrmaay 
yaan pctpataal camta of H^tfoa near Warwicfc. This 

14 LANDOR. [chap. 

singular personage, in spite of many grotesque pomposities 
of speech, and some of character, commanded respect alike ^ 
by his learning and his love of liberty. He was a pillar 
of advanced "Whig opinions, and a friend of most of the 
chief men of that party. To the study where Parr lived 
ensconced with his legendary wig and pipe, and whence, 
in the lisping utterance that suited so quaintly with his 
sesquipedalian vocabulary, he fulminated against Pitt and 
laid down the law on Latin from amid piles of books and 
clouds of tobacco-smoke, the young Landor was wont to 
resort in search of company more congenial than that of 
the orthodox clergy and lawyers who frequented his 
father's house. 

In speaking of these friendships of Landor's youth we 
have somewhat anticipated the order of events. To return 
to the date of his removal from Eugby ; he was next 
placed under the charge of a Dr. Langley, at the village, 
celebrated for the charms of its scenery, of Ashbourne in 
Derbyshire. Here again he showed how strong an 
attachment he was capable of inspiring in, and returning 
towards, a gentle and friendly senior. In his dialogue 
of Izaak AValton, Cotton, and Oldways, Dr. Langley 
is immortalized in the character of the " good parson of 
Ashbourne ;" " he wants nothing, yet he keeps the grammar 
school, and is ready to receive as private tutor any young 
gentleman in preparation for Oxford or Cambridge, but 
only one. They live like princes, converse like friends, 
and part like lovers." In a note to the same dialogue, as 
well as several times elsewhere, Landor explicitly declares 
his gratitude for the "parental kindness" of Dr. Langley 
and his wife, as also that which he bore all his life to 
two others of his teachers, the above mentioned Dr. Sleath 
at Eugby, and " the saintly Ben well " at Oxford. 


la Uiia kind hooMhoU LaadorpMnd Muly Iwo ;«»>• 
la Litia il •ppmn thil be bftd aoi moeh to Inn lk«ai 
the ^ood riBU, bat be toned bie time to aoeooat in lead- 
ii^ tbe Gntk writen, e^peciaD j Sopboelae and Pindar ; 
ia tHMlitii^ eooM of BadMOMB into FiBgKeh, aadaoaie 
oTCoiriijiBto Letia, m% beMke otb« poetifltl tftttc 
ia botb ki^ n i ^if Hk Fr^*^ reeMe at ibie time diow 
bimaotyil emmMipated from tbe eetablidiad pteeedeaU 
of tbe eigjhlentii enlaiy. It ie aoi natil a jeer or two 
later tbat we iind bim abewkwinft ia aaimtiTe poetrj, 
tbe trim amaotoiiy of tbe Ajwdag wafki far a bleak 
Tim of moremeeehre atnelnrend atelelier mereb tbaa 
aay wbicb bed beea wntlaa iiaee Milton. 

At ei^teea Leader left Aabboone ead went iaie 
lendeaee et Trinity Colles^ Oxford. Hie ebilitiee made 
tbeir impraaMoa at tbe naivenity ia ifate of bimeelf ; 
bat be atfll wovld aut be peienaded to eo mp ete Cor eay 
eott of diatiaetion, **! abowed mj eompoaitioae to 
Bimb of M^^dalea, my old friead et B^y , ead to Caiy, 
tmaalator of Deate, aad to aone ebe." Laador'a npa- 
tatioa for taleata wbidi be woald aot pat foitb wee 
eeoompeaied by a fn w t e ti o B far opjaimw vbidk be woaU 
aoteoaemL Tbe ^jttalkm ef politkel pmliee waa at ka 
fcf^ l, Tbo latter eoome of tbe Revolatioa btti alieaeted 
tbe wjoiity efvta of tboee vbo bad qrmpatfund witb 
it at 8nt» ead tlw lew Fi^hbam iriw did aol ebaie 
tbe general borror were marked men. Among tboee 
km tbara were et Oxfard fai tbaee diqre two aadm- 
gmdnlM. Soatbey of Belliol, a&d Leader of Tkiaity. 
Tbe two wtra not known toeecb otber aatO afterwardii 
bat tbey botb amde tbamaalvii CMMpioaoai hf fyi''"g 
ia ball ead ehewbma witb tbeir bair a ii pa ir d ma d , a 
imbion wUcb aboat 1793-1791 wee a diieel adrmlkament 

16 LANDOR. [chap. 

of revolutionary sentiments. " Take care," said Landor's 
tutor to him; "they will stone you for a republican." 
JTo such consequences in fact resulted, but Landor became 
notorious in the University. He was known not only as 
a Jacobin, but as a " mad Jacobin." " His Jacobinism," 
says Southey, looking back to his own feelings in those 
days, " would have made me seek his acquaintance, but 
for his madness." The impression thus left on Southey's 
mind was probably due less to the warmth of Landor's 
revolutionary sentiments and language, than to the 
notoriety of the freak which before long brought him 
for the second time into violent and futile collision 
with authority. One evening he invited his friends to 
wine. He had been out shooting in the morning, 
and had his gun, powder, and shot in the next room. 
Opposite were the rooms of a Tory undergraduate, "a 
man," according to Landor's account, " universally laughed 
at and despised ; and it unfortunately happened that he 
had a party on the same day, consisting of servitors and 
other raflfs of every description." The two parties began ex- 
changing taunts ; then those opposite closed the shutters, 
and being on the outside, Landor proposed by way of a 
practical joke to send a charge of shot into them. His 
friends applauded, and he fired. The owner of the shutters 
naturally complained, and an inquiry was instituted to 
ascertain who was the offender. Landor's defiant mood 
at this point played him an ill turn, in that it prompted 
him, instead of frankly stating the facts, to refuse all 
information. Part of his motive in this course, as he 
himself afterwards explained, was his unwillingness to add 
to the causes of displeasure which he was conscious of 
having already given to his father. He could not have 
followed a more injudicious course. The president was 

i] COLLIOI. 17 

ipaOed to path Um inqiiby and to iaiiet paBkhmeiiC 
Thk he MBini to hare done m leniently and foariderotely 
It poMible; and when aatenea <£ mitieition wm pio- 
noMMiad it w withthe enM—id ltope» on tita part of all 
the college antboritiee bat one, thai ita rietim would 
aooB fatam to do them honom Stnagaly anoo^ ii 
aaaoM alao to hare ban hoped thilantem to hit bona 
woold bring aboot a better nndentaading between yoong 
LuMkr aad hia frther. Bat ao 6r from thia beii« the 
eaaa, hia bearing after the freak, Bore eren than the freak 
ttaelf^ together with his eabeeqoent step of giring np hia 
coUege fnwBi, ezaqiented Dr. Lander ; paaaionate woada 
wwa enhngad; and the eon tuned hia baek on hia 
fathcr*a hooaa, aa ha deetued and beiieTed, «* for eTa-." 


(1794 — 1804.) 

From "Warwick Landor went at first to London, where 
he took a lodging in Beaumont Street, Portland Place. 
Here he worked hard for several months at French and 
Italian, having formed the design of leaving England 
and taking np his abode in Italy. His Italian studies 
made him an ardent admirer of Alfieri, whom he always 
afterwards counted it an event to have met once at this 
time in a bookseller's shop. During these months he 
also brought out his first book, " The Poems of Walter 
Savage Landor ; printed for T. Cadell, jun. and W. 
Davies (successors to John Cadell) in the Strand, 1795," 
This small volume is now very rare, having been, like 
several of Landor's writings, withdrawn from sale by its 
author within a few weeks of publication. It contained 
a number of poems and epigrams in English, besides a 
collection of Latin verses and a prose Defensio vindicating 
the use of that language by the moderns. The principal 
English pieces are a poem in three cantos on the Birth of 
Poesy, an Apology for Satire, a tale of Pyramus and 
TJiisbe, imitated from Ovid, an Epistle of Abelard to 
Eloisa, all in tlie rhymed heroic couplet, an ode To WasJi- 
ington in the style of Gray, • and a short poem in the 

F.XPFKIM» \ :•« n»l.-r«T. 19 

'cnoiul than Xhni eomnt 

' ' dietion m w«ii an i ' ~>ioe 

1 midar the ink ot th 
* of njrmplu 

f hif e- 
tie volaiiM awonto bar- 
»^^u, iM.^ .. ^— -n in dMMHid a- V 

iaaJNoktio: harUtoaiyw! 

dvriag thtm ndoB did nut, like Um Utt^ Uw 

hit BUD*. i..~ r« «»ai]»t Pitt, in Uw fgrmof « 

Moral EpulU i . addiMMd to Eari Stan- 

hopi^ with A }) the lepoblkftB poet 

OTHdftlw wi' on hia poaMflaton of 

heieditavT )> 


moat among them of the fair Dorothea Lyttelton and her 
— dei^ had been employed in ■mil iim to iieonaili him with 
hia iniily. SafranlptopoiHioMaatohielbtaremodeol 
lifi were aneeamiyaly Oftde and dropped ; one baiag that 
he ahovld be e ft wd a wnmrnJarinn than veeeat in the 
Warwiekahim Maitk. Tbk eehom% ho««m^ nam eune 
to Laador^ kaowledga^ haTiag IhOaa to the groond whan 
it waa eeeavtained that the other Mntlemen of ttM eorae 
woold raaigB mlhar th«i aarre with a eewnde oT hia 
opiaiona. The aimi^MMnt vltiaalaly made waa thai he 
ahonld meaire an aDmnee of a hudbed and illgr ponada 
a year, and be fbe to lire ee he Kked, it baiaf aader- 
atood thai the idea of a ratiaal to Italy wm ghran «p^ 

and that b« waa ««I«him ta fmi onaH^n at hia fclhaa'e 

20 LAXDOE. [chap. 

house whenever he pleased. If this allowance seems 
small, it must be remembered that Dr. Landor's family^ 
property in Staffordshire was worth something under a 
thousand pounds a year ; while there were six younger 
children for whom Mrs. Landor, her estates being 
strictly entailed upon her eldest son, held herself bound 
to make provision out of her income during her life. To 
her careful and impartial justice towards all her children 
there exists abundant testimony, including that of 
"Walter himself, whose feelings towards his mother 
were at all times those of unclouded gratitude and 

Matters having been thus arranged, Landor left London, 
and, with the exception of occasional visits to his family, 
led during the next three years a life of seclusion in South 
Wales. He took up his residence on the coast, of which 
the natural charms were not then defiled as they are now 
by the agglomerations and exhalations of the mining and 
smelting industries. Having his headquarters generally 
at Swansea, sometimes at Tenby, and sometimes taking 
excursions into remoter parts of the Principality, he filled 
the chief part of his time with strenuous reading and 
meditation. His reminiscences of the occupations of these 
days are preserved in sundry passages both of prose and 
rhyme. Thus, contrasting the tenour of his own youth 
with that of Moore's, — 

Alone I spent my earlier hour, 
While thou wert in the roseate bower, 
And raised to thee was every eye, 
And every song won every sigh. 
One servant and one chest of books 
FoUow'd me into mountain nooks 
Where shelter'd from the sun and breeze 
Lay Pindar and Thucydides. 


Aaoag all Um ftadoit and modan writan whom 
Lndor iwd aad poodarad al lUi time, thoaa who had 
Moal ahara in fotaiBg hia aind aaam to hara bacn Pindar 
and MfltOQ. Wbal ha adaiiad, ha aaja, in Pindar, waa 
hia**p>ood<waBplaewieyaadacbtnftilatreagth. Ifleoold 
him ia notiuag tlais I waa rmohrad lo ha aa 
and aa azeloaiTa.'* Bat tha atru aga at ^mU 
waa that laid npoo him hj ICUon, for whom alika aa a 
poal» hwo^ aad Mpoihlkui aacr aad prophal^ ha BOW Bist eoo- 
aaitad tha aaihariaalie lavanaoa wUdi aftarwardaiiM|nred 
aomaof hianohlaalwtitiBg. ** My prqodieea in fsTour of 
■ ■friwit Wt ma lM a hcgas to waar away on raading Famdisf 
!«< and affaa tha giaat hexamatar aotadad to ma tinkliiv 
I had rwttad aloud, in my aolitary walka on tha 
tha han^^ qipaal of Satan and tha v^anlBBea 
of Eta." Han^ from a lattar wnttan loi« aflar to Lady 
IHiMdimliai, ia another r e tm a|»«c t iTa glimpae of his life in 
thoaa dayn **I UTad,* ha wiitaa, *«ohiaiy aaMi« woods, 
whkh ara now killed with eoppar woik% and took my 
walks atwt sandy sm eoaat dasaits, than aorafad with km 
roaea and thotimnda of namsism lowamand phmta, trodden 
hy tha naked feel of tha Walah psamntty, and taek- 

and tha anfanali^ aad warn aa aaafnl to tha lawiwapa 
aa maasm of waad or sinadad boata." Karar warn 
his sputa haltsr, ha writw in tha same wmnaijon. 
ahhongh ha did not azahai^ twalra iilaBBM with 

It ia alsar that Landor hara am^gantaa in aoaa d«paa 
tha InnaWnms of his liia. If ha did not aichBi«s twah« 
with men, ha at aU ataata toad aemsion for 
pariqr vitli tha othsr sax. Hawaaiafcet 
aa mneh a slimiiaMr to tha m— fw how*t aa 

22 LANDOB. [chap. 

the verses above quoted might lead us to suppose. These 
days of solitary rambles and high communings, " Studies ^ 
intense of strong and stern delight," — the line is his own 
— were also to Landor days of romance. The earliest 
heroine of his devotions during his life in Wales was called 
in the language of poetry lone, and in that of daily 
life Jones. To her succeeded, but without, it would 
seem, altogether supplanting her, a second and far more 
serious flame. This was a blithe Irish lady, who conceived 
a devoted passion for the haughty and studious youth, and 
whom her poet called lanthe. lanthe stands for Jane, and 
the full name of the lady was Sophia Jane Swift; afterwards 
Countess de Molande. I find the history of these names 
lone and lanthe, which fill so considerable a place in 
Landor's early poetry, set down as follows in one of those 
autobiographical jottings in verse which he did not think 
it worth while to publish, but which are characteristic as 
illustrating his energetic and deliberate way of turning 
trifles into verse : — 

Sometimes, as boys will do, I play'd at love, 
Nor fear'd cold weather, nor withdrew in hot ; 
And two who were my playmates at that hour. 
Hearing me call'd a poet, in some doubt 
Challenged me to adapt their names to song, 
lone was the first ; her name is heard 
Among the hills of Cambria, north and south. 
But there of shorter stature, like herself; 
I placed a comely vowel at its close. 
And drove an ugly sibilant away. 

» « K « • 

lanthe, who came later, smiled and said, 

I have two names and will be praised in both ; 

Sophia is not quite enough for me, 

And you have simply named it, and but once. 

Now call the other up — 


I iraal, mad pUnt»<i ui • firvab p«rt«rr» 
laaiM i it «m Uooaiiid wImb • julfc 
Laipt o'«r tlw hidlg% sad aMlayaf ■! tlw ilaai 
Bnh» oT tba kM tnm w»j iiwaril* ioi»«r. 
Aad ftaek ift oa » MRtar of y* owB. 

The nlly in Um last Uow k enrioot. Both Shelkj tod 
Bjtetk hare nad* Ea^iih mdos ftouliar with the atiM 
IwtMt 80 IvM I eaa Isain, it had not tippmnd m 
Eni^ttril pootfy at aU until it waa intiodneed by Landor, 
•xoapl in Diydan'a tr i nri a tinii of tha aloix of Iphii aad 
laathftlnmOTid. It waa in 1813 that both 67100 ehoii ft 
as a fiuwy nam« for lady Ann Hariey, in Um dadicatiop 
of Childa Hamld, aad Shalley w a real name to ba gtmi 
to hia iatMt ifanjhtit. Iha «* jooth " of tha abo?« tx- 
tad can hanlly ba any other than Bynm, whooi LudtM' 
Baithv likad nor iraoh adBivadf and whoB ha < 
aa wa thm paioeiTa^ to hsva bo e r o w wl thia baartiftJ 
lanthk ikom hia own eaily poatiy. 

Upon tha whola tha lifc lad by Laador at twialy, 
aad for tha yaan aast foUowim^ waa oaa wiD idlid to 
tha tiaining of a poal Ha iiw u ie liwl hie mind iiao> 
Intaly npon tha noblaal wmtmmam, ■aHng hia own all 
that was bait in tha litonlmi of inniaal and 
£nopa; anafl^ iwlaad, in tha UliHliM of 
which ked baaa than barely dlMoraivd in Enghad by a 
fcw azploren like 8oott» Colea^ aad William Taylor 
of Xorwioh, aad to which Laador aiithir aow 
wardi felt hiMBalf aMnctod. Ha iMOitod, 
with tha kacBiot cepoyawat of ili wiawy, a 
hwdly leae wamutit or lew Iwpiwrifi thaathat which waa 
faiipiii^ HthaiBMllaathayoalhofWoidBwoclh. If 
hawwiaaliaad to triBa with tha aoat aaetooe of thii^ 
kn% thm b a feall by which tha ^paHtf of ^ aaa^ lift 
bal aol iiiMiilythaqaiiHyof hia 

24 LANDOK. [chap. 

experiences both more transient and more reckless than 
his have made of a Burns or a Heine the exponents of " 
the passion for all generations. 

Landor, however, was not destined to be one of 
the master poets either of nature, like Wordsworth, or 
of passion, like Burns or Heine. All his life he gave 
proof, in poetry, of remarkable and versatile capacity, but of 
no overmastering vocation. So little sure, indeed, in 
youth was he of his own vocation, that his first im- 
portant poem, Gehir, was suggested by an accident and 
prefaced with an apology. The history of Gehir is 
this : Landor had made friends at Tenby with the 
family of Lord Aylmer, and one of the young ladies 
of that family, his especial and close friend Eose Aylmer, 
lent him a history of romance by one Clara Eeeve. 
At the end of this book he found a sketch of a tale, 
nominally Arabian, Avhich struck his imagination as 
having in it something of a shadowy, antique grandeur — 
magnificum quid sub crepusculo antiquitatis, as he after- 
wards defined the quality — and out of which he presently 
constructed the following story. Gebir (whence Gibraltar) 
a prince of Spain, in fulfilment of a vow binding him 
to avenge hereditary wrongs, makes war against Charoba, a 
young queen of Egypt. Charoba seeks counsel of her nurse, 
the sorceress Dalica, who devises succour through her 
magic arts. An interview next takes place between Charoba 
and the invader, when their enmity changes into mutual 
love. Gebir hereupon directs his army to restore and 
colonize a ruined city which had been founded in the 
country of Charoba by one of his ancestors ; and the 
work is begun and carried on until it is suddenly undone 
by magic. Meanwhile the brother of Gebir, Tamar, a 
shepherd-prince, whose task it is to tend the flocks of the 

TT 28 

hi^, 0«bir penoadM Tunr to let Aim try * faU with 
the Bynph, aiid thiowuig her, Imnm from h«r, fiiai pro' 
tMag that dM dttll k«T« Um brad of Tamw Cor her 
nwird, th« ritflt lo be performed in oidw thai hk eiiy 
mij riee unimiMdad. In tbe ftdfilment of these rites 
Qehur Tints the node^woild, md beholdt the shades of 
his a a ees toti . Alter his return it is agreed thai he shall 
ba irsddad to Charoba. Tamar also and his nymph an 
to ba «Bit6d; their m a ni iy takca phee fiial» and the 
Bjmph, wamiag her hnsbaiid of ealamtties about to beAJI 
in l(gyp4» peisaades him to depart wMi her, and after 
leading him in reriew past all the diotes of the Medi- 
tsninsin, onfelds lo him a Tiaoa of the ^otj awaiting 
hie deaeendsnta in the lands between the Rhine and the 
Garaina, Then follows the marriage of G«bir and Cha- 
roba, wbidi Ihtj and their l e sp ee U fi hoste intend to be 
the seal of a gnat reconcfliatioa. Bat, inaamwrh as 
"w om a n eommnnieale their ftam more wiUingly than 
thair lorey" Chaioba baa nerer avowed her ehai^ ot 
heaii to Daliea, who belieraa the marriage to be only a 
stialagam denied by the qnean to get Gebtr within hi*r 
poww. Aaaei diBgly ehe ghrea the bridngreom , to pnt on 
daring the uw— mij, a poiMmad gu MM rt whkh aha has 
obtained from bar aiBl», a aonenas tUn^fm than hanalf. 
The pojaon takes dbdi, aad the poem ends with the 
death of Qebir in the ami of the despairii« Cbaroba, 
and in Tiaw of the amembled hoala. 

8oeh is the plot, shadowy in truth and -umowdai 
ehaolk^ of Lndoi's fliet oomidwablo poem. In ha pre- 
free ha daakrm the wQcfc to ba * the ftnil of IdlMMM and 
IfBonaca ; for had I bean a botaalsl or a ■Jnawkgiat, it 

26 LAND OK. [chap. 

had never been written." "VVe ought, however, to qualify 
these careless words of the preface, by remembering those' 
of the poem itself, in which he invokes the spirit of 
Shakspeare, and tells how — 

panting in the play-hour of my youth, 

I drank of Avon, too, a dangerous draught 
That roused within the feverish thirst of song. 

Having determined to write Gehir, Landor hesitated 
for some time whether to do so in Latin or in English, 
and had even composed some portions in the former 
language before he finally decided in favour of the latter. 
And then, when he had written his first draft of the 
poem in English, he lost the manuscript, and only re- 
covered it after a considerable time. Here is his account 
of the matter as he recollected it in old age, — 

Sixty the yeai's since Fidler bore 
My grouse-bag up the Bala moor ; 
Above the lakes, along the lea, 
Wher'e gleams the darkly yellow Dee ; 
Through crags, o'er cliffs, I carried there 
My verses with paternal care. 
But left them, and went home again 
To wing the birds upon the plain. 
With heavier luggage half forgot. 
For many months they follow'd not. 
When over Tawey's sands they came, 
Brighter flew up my winter flame. 
And each old cricket sang alert 
With joy that they had come unhurt. 

"When he had recovered the manuscript of his poem, 
Landor next proceeded to condense it. He cuts out, he teUs 
us, nearly half of Avhat he had written. The poem as so 
abridged is, for its length, probably the most "compen- 
dious and exclusive" which exists. The narrative is 
packed into a space where it has no room to develope itself 

iiO OKBIE. 27 

•I «ML 11m tiandlkiM ftoB <MM theme to aBoihar are 
■ibmiil with mora thaa Pindaae abroptneeii aad the diffi- 
culty of the poem ii finther ipnreeeef! by the oo am wee 
of gnunmatieal coMtaroetiaiie bonoiwed from the Letiiit 
•ad aeeiccly ti»«»iifgita» to thoee ignnmnt of that km- 
gmtga* It >■ only after eooeidenhle atody thai the 
leader eooeeede in taking in Chbir ae a whole, how- 
ever mneh he may from the fint be impreeaed by the 
poww of partfankr peaaagea. Xezt to the ab ny t a e w 
and the eondenmtkm of GMr, ita moal alriking qoali- 
tiee are breadth and riridnew of imaginatioa. Taken 
aevmaUy, and withont legard to their ae q n en e e and 
eoBneadoB, them eoloaMlfigarca and aBpanalaral aetaona 
am preeeoted with maateriy reality and force. A* 
li^nda style aad laqgoaga^ Landor dwws that he hae 
aol been atadying tim grmi maaten in vain. Sb 
haa diaoaided Bellona and the Zephyra, #n d ra llf ibiwg « 
by thair proper namea, admitting no hajghtantng of kn* 
gm^ that Ii Bo4 the natsml aT|ffBmk»o of haJ|^hlaMd 
thot^lit. For lolkinem of thoi^t and ki^(Mga together, 
them are jam^e in Ot^ir that will bear eompariaoa 
with Miltoa. Them am linw too thai for mi^eaty of 
rhythm mil bear the aaam e o m paii a nn ; but migeitiB aa 
Landoi'a blaal^ verm oAan ii, it ia always loo mgnlar ; 
it ezhibilB none of the Millaaie variety, aoaa of the 
inveolioaa in Tiolalion or aaapanaioB of ordiaaiy aw- 
trieal law, by whieh that gmal amilw dmwa naanmidad 
toom fkom hie Inafmiaaiit 

Bm% indeed, waa a eontmal to the fmhkaahle poetry of 
the hoar, to the daleet inanitim of Haylay aad of Mka 
SewtnL GMr appeamd joal at the add point of taam 
betwaaa tha eoa^laint of Blaka eoaeanii« Iha tnmaey 
of the Mama fhn fla^aad. 

28 LANDOE. [chap. 

The languid strings do scaxcely move, 
The sound is forced, the notes are few, 

and tlie thanksgiving of Keats, 

fine sounds are floating wild 

About the earth. 

Of the fine sounds that heralded to modern ears the 
revival of English poetry, Gebir will always remain for 
students one of the most distinctive. The Lyrical Ballads, 
the joint venture of Coleridge and Wordsworth, which 
appeared in the same year as Gehir, began with the Ancient 
Mariner, a work of even more vivid and haunting, if also 
more uneartlily, imagery, and ended with the Lines written 
on revisiting T intern Abbey, which conveyed the first notes 
of a far deeper spiritual message. But nowhere in 
the Avorks of "Wordsworth or Coleridge do we find any- 
thing resembling Landor's peculiar quahties of haughty 
splendour and massive concentration. The message, such 
as it is, of Gebir is mainly political and philanthropic. 
The tragic end of the hero and his bride is designed to 
point a moral against the enterprises of hatred and ambi- 
tion, the happy fates of Tamar and the nymph to illus- 
trate the reward that awaits the peaceful. The progeny 
whom the latter pair see in a vision celebrating the 
triumphs of liberty are intended to symbolize the people 
of revolutionary France. The passage describing their 
festivity, cancelled in subsequent editions, is one of the 
best in the original poem, and its concluding image may 
serve to illustrate both the style and the versification of 
Gebir at least as Avell as other passages more commonly 
quoted, like the shell, the meeting of the prince and 
Charoba, or the bath of Charoba. 

ti.l OKBTB. 19 

WImU hoaiy fcm M TiforaM iHMl bMidi hfMV f 
Tteis TtM MMrif tiBowa off y> Mikj |Mtw 
rifwrf with ■!— liiiM ■§■ —d mn—lwiM god*. 
Aad to pm VMlw* «■*■■ tiMir iMO* Ammi. 

CapctTJty lad eaptirs, wmr o'trtknwn, 
Tb«jr atMll o*«r Bomp*, thaU o'ar Mrtk otI— d 
Bapitv that MM ttloo* aad dd«a flcmlac. 
Aad ftory ttMU ilMll atfilw the orytul ttara. 

In Um mim •pint Boonapart* it incli^ad amoag the 
dmfwidanti of Ttmu, and hu birth fonahadomd ■• thai 

A aaital aaa abofv dD Mortal pisiM I 

Ob tba oUmt hand Qaoigo IIL is iatrodnead, with a 
kirdly Mglaet of tha eonaidflntioiia of time and qiaoe^ 
anoBg the aaoaitow of Oebir loAniig the penal^ of 
thflir erimaa in tha arUier ngtona. ** Aroar,* oriaa tha 
priaoa to hit goide, 

Aromt. what mrtUk thu Mamt M f Wbat wiateh 
'- thai wtekcjalHovswhitak and ahuitiBftevnr? 

Un eon iM w Ihw i , il bmij ba WMi i t i o a a d , Laador had 
anoUiar ftmrak for aijii awing hit mnnkm $at tha 
physical appaannea of hk aoTsiaigB. Ha had only aeen 
him ooea^ and **hia ayn," ha vaa a egm toi B ad to aay, 
**»• ayaa lookad aa if thay had baan est o«t of a 
Toltaia^ gioud.*^ In taking laava of Chbir, lat aa otily 
Bota firthw tha pinonal aDoatoiH which il *ft*VfT if in 
two piwagei to Ludoi^ lalalioM with hit IobAu Ona it 
a dinet.apotliopha in whi^ ha atlc h t ataa har haaakiia ; 
her ^iacka» har tamplta, har 1^ har ayaiv har Ihnat* 
which ha eaUi lota% aohunn 

IrapUtd nasd with 

30 LANDOR. [chap. 

In the other passage she is introduced among the choir of 

nymphs attendant upon the bride of Tamar : — ^ 

Scarce the sweet-flowing music he imbibes, 
Or sees the peopled Ocean ; scarce he sees 
Spio with sparkling eyes, or Beroe 
Demure, and young lone, less renown'd, 
Not less divine, mild-natured, Beauty form'd 
Her face, her heart Fidelity ; for gods 
Design'd a mortal, too, lonfe loved. 

Landor was at all times sensible enough of the difference 
between his own marble and other men's stucco ; and he 
expected great things of Gehir. 'At the same time, he 
published it in the manner least likely to ensure success, 
that is anonymously, and in pamphlet shape, through a 
local publisher at Warwick. Considering the reception 
given twenty years afterwards to the poetry of Keats and 
Shelley, it is no wonder that Gehir was neglected. The 
poem found indeed one admirer, and that was Southey, 
who read it with enthusiasm, recommended it in speech 
and writing to his friends, Cobbe, William Taylor, 
Grosvenor Bedford^ the Hebers, and in the year follow- 
ing its publication (1799) called public attention to it 
in the pages of the Critical Revieio. Another distin- 
guished admirer, of some years later date, was De 
Quincey, who was accustomed to profess, although Landor 
scouted the profession, that he also had for some time 
" conceited himself " to be the sole purchaser and appre- 
ciater of Gehir, Southey's praise in the CrUical Revieio 
was soon balanced by a disparaging article in i\\Q Monthly, 
in which the anonymous author was charged, among other 
things, with having too closely imitated Milton. To this 
Landor prepared a reply, written, to judge by the speci- 
mens given in Forster's Life, in just the same solid, 
masculine, clenching style with which we are familiar in 


hkhlar prow, but wiihheU from publioAtioQ in dcfifenee 
to Um jndiekHM adtriet of a ftiend. 

WlMlher tho noal raeean oT hi* poom reailj had 
•aytUiv to do with tiM rMtlawnMi of Undor'i Ufe and 
tba demltorinMa of hia eflbcta daring the next few yean, 
we can haidlj talL He my himaeU^ in hie loftj way, 
that if eves fcoltih man bad eaied fcr Chbir, he ahoald 
have eoalinaed to apply himaelf to poetiy, aiiiee " then 
ii wathfag of arauaer in the hum of inaeela.' Am it 
waa he aOowed hineelf to drift He bigui to diteoify 
hia exile with fteqnenl and piolo^^ Tinti to Bath, 
Loadoo, Brif^too. He tried hia poweia fitlUly in aMUiy 
diiMliflBa. Dr. P)ur waa eagv to enltat hia yovag friaod 
in the ranks of >Vhig joamaUnn, and p«Biia<liiil him to 
plaee hiniMlf in rektaooa with Bobett Adab, the i^t- 
hand amn in theae mattiia of Chariaa Jamea Fox ; iwder 
whoae gnidanee Laador bwiame far a while a firaqvantar 
of the repovtar'a galleiy, • eootribiitor to the OouHer, 
and a bott for the attache of the Anti-Jaeobim, In aeom 
and demadaikm of **the Exaemhia," that iatoaay of Pitt 
and of hia poKey, Laadoreoiddbetiiialed not tofiul;b«it 
in anppoit of Fox and hia, it waa nnaafe to eoont npon 
him too far. He waa not, indeed, of the atnff of which 
pnctieaQy eAetive politieal witlan are madau While 
he deapimd peity watchwoide and party men, hia 
It wae not i!if aarifiMli annngh Ibr wiae 
Hia politieal wittinti^ •• ^ ^liaU aei^ teatif y 
to a at anneh ami high devotion to the gmat primiipha of 
fr eedom and of jnatiea^ ae wril aa to a Jmt obeervatioB of 
mmqr «f the broad tela of politiea and aoeiaty. Bat in 
dealhig with iadindaal pwbl t ma ami pacaona Lador 
kaowa no maaaiir^ and ia capable neither of aUowaaee 
nor ■ b ati ii i i t In hie eyee all chaaipioaa of Uberty ate 

32 LANDOE. [chap, 

for the time being spotless heroes ; nearly all kings, tyrants 
to he removed by the dagger or the rope ; and with a few^ 
shining exceptions, most practical politicians knaves and 

How long Lander's connexion with the Couriei' lasted 
does not appear ; but it was at any rate not terminated 
till the resignation of Pitt, and the formation of the 
Addington Ministry in 1801. This event exasperated 
the Whig party, and especially Parr, whose correspondence 
with Landor at this time consists of pompous and elabo- 
rate diatribes, the substance of which he entreats his 
young friend to recast for publication in the party sheet. 
Then ensued the peace of Luneville ; and in the next 
year, 1802, the peace of Amiens. Landor, like all the 
world, took the opportunity to visit Paris ; but like him- 
self, declined to accept introductions or to pay any kind 
of personal homage to the victorious Consul or to his 
ministers. His, at least, was not one among the feeble 
heads, to slavery prone, upon which Wordsworth poured 
scorn on the same occasion. Landor travelled alone, 
made his own observations on the people and the 
country ; witnessed, from the illuminated garden of the 
TuUeries, the j^oung conqueror's reception by the multi- 
tude when he appeared at the window of the palace, and 
contrived, in the great review afterwards, to get a place 
within a few feet of him as he rode by. Of all this 
Landor wrote fully and unaifectedly at the time in letters, 
which have been preserved, to his sisters and brothers. 
Here, written ten years afterwards, and coloured by a 
certain measure of deliberate and in truth somewhat over- 
magniloquent rhetoric, is his account of the reflexions to 
Avhich another incident of his Paris trip gave rise; I 
mean his visit to the spoils of art there collected in 


the Ia>u\ rt- frnu the charcha* and gdierie> of Italy and 
of all ) UP ] ■. . " I wobC ha lajt ** with impatieat haila 
lo bdkold thata woadan of their age and of all agea 
•Meaadingf hoi no iooner had. I aaeandad a tew atapa 
laading to them than I leaned back inrolimtarilj afpuaat 
the hahiBtii, and my miad waa ormahadowad and 
almoak o ta ipin ia i a d hj thaaa wleetjom. Hai than tha 
alqpidit}- of men who ooold not^ in the whole oooiae 
of their arietaiMw, hare glTaa hiith to aoythiiig eqml to 
tha amaUeafc of tha wnka ahora, been tha eaaaa of their 
ramoral from th« ooantvy of thoae who ptodneed than I 
Ki^pi, whoee iatoitj woold hare badtted them batter to 
diiva a hard of awiaa than to direct tha en e r g i e a of a 
nation ! WeU, weU ! I wiU loee for a moment the 
of their woika in contemplating thoae of gi e atcr 

The erenta of tha kit ftva yeaa had had no mote afleet 
than thoae of the five preceding them in modifying Hm 
eaBNiltal pointi of I^rnkw's pi^H iefl cnad. Tha pi T rt wi ti 
of the Diredary and Conmlate had no morn been able 
than the oigiee of tha Terror to di^goak him with rapobli- 
eanim or to reecwile him to monarchy. He had dauad, 
indeed, thaeh^frinandnpiobatkm with whidi all Akndi 
of liberty looked on the anbvenion by revolutionary 
Fmnce^ now thai aha waa tranaformed into a eonqoering 
jftmrn, of anciaat Kbettiai onlridahar bowiara, Bolitwaa 
f^nee only, and not tha Ravohlion, that Landor haki 
guilty. HehadbythiatiaMconoeiTedtethatcoaiiryand 
ita iahabilanta an avanian in whUk he new aftacwarda 
**A aee uadwl of a r ka wi hm an t amohj j 
aeo nndwl did oo and ao^** ha wrote once to 
Hmi^ and tha worda eew^y hie iwlimMntian the wtJbl/mA in 
anoHhiD. Tha Fraaeh iw tar bim hwwityi ■aid Urn 

34 LANDOE. [chap. 

ferocious, the most inconstant, tho most ungovernable of 
human beings. " As to the cause of liberty," he writes 
from Paris to his brother in 1802, "this cursed nation 
has ruined it for ever," The fault in his e^'^es is not nearly 
so much that of their new master as their own, Buona- 
parte is indeed no longer for Landor the mortal man above 
all mortal jjraise of Gehit; any more than the French 
people are the peaceful progeny of Tamar ; but he is the 
best ruler for such a race. " Doubtless the government 
of Buonaparte is the best that can be contrived for French- 
men. Monkeys must be chained, though it may cost 
them some grimaces." And again, reiterating the same 
idea more gravely ten years afterwards, Landor writes : — 
" iSTo people is so incapable of governing itself as the 
French, and no government is so proper for it as a despotic 
and a military one. A nation more restless and rapacious 
than any horde in Tartary can be controlled only by a 
Ghenghiz Khan. . . . Their emperor has acted towards 
them with perfect wisdom, and will leave to some future 
Machiavelli, if Europe should again see so consummate a 
politician, a name which may be added to Agathocles and 
Caesar Borgia. He has amused himself with a display of 
every character from ]\[asaniello up to Charlemagne, but 
in all his praiiks and vagaries he has kept one foot upon 

This whimsical energy of dislike extends from tho 
political to the private characteristics of the French ; to 
their looks, their voices, and manners, and even to the 
scenery and climate of their country. " Of all the 
coasts," it is declared in one of his dialogues, " of all the 
coasts in the universe, of the same extent, those of France 
for nearly their totality in three seas are the least beautiful 
and the least interesting." " The children, the dogs the 

l;-^', .>r»' ii."rv . ! iiii-r-'i- tii.iu ■ .: .' •■ r. - r. ,,::..•!.* 

deplomble, bat 1m ia too good a jadgo of letters to extend 
>>! *'• their wiitingL He ««■ eolidly and Chbi- 

U> ; the gieel Fkvneh writen from Montttgne 

end Rehelaie down, end thoa|^ he did scent joetaee 
to Voltetre, end eew the veekneei inther thui theatioi^ 
of the Fraidi poelkd dnum, he tho«s^t wmuf of their 
pitiee writen leeoad ooly, if eeeond et ell, to the best of 
aataiimty. The style of Bonessen in perticnler he tbooghi 
ineonpuablo. He held eko in hi^ eilmiietioii the gras* 
Fiendi onloikel diTinee, eml kHi end Talned to the fall 
the combtiied ptegneaey end simpheity of thoQi^t end 
wUewmcie whidi distingaidi those two |M »e B iaeat rlsssics 
in vene end prose i«pectiTidy, Le Footeine end FmcsL 
** Do we find in PMeel enything of the lyings gMeoiied> 
ing^ Tiyonring Frenehnsn? On the oontnry, we find, 
in despite of thenoel mieereble bagwgs^ eU the eober 
end nliied gneee of style, etl the e o a fid e nt eeee of aMn- 
Uness end strength, with en honest bat not ebrapt eim* 
pHdty whieh eppeek to the reeeon, bat k else admitted 
to the heart.*' 

To retttra to the histiny o( Leadoc^e ooeopetiou^ 
in 1800 be hod pabtiabed, in the shape of an aaboaml 
qaaito pamphlet of fooileea pagei^ a coDectioa of shoH 
** FoeoM from the Arabie end IVmian,'' writlea in inegokr 
anribjmed renes, priadpelly anapaati<i An ealogii^ 
Bole added in old age to Us own eopj saya— **I wrote 
these poems after readii^ what had been trsnileted 
fttmi the Aiabio end PMaien by Sir W. Jonee eml 
l>r. XotL" In hk prafree Lsndor profcssas to have 
foOofvad a Fnndi TsnieD of the ciigfamK b«t Mither 
■ucK TsnioB nor saob ovigiaak en kam to exist; 
D 2 

36 LANDOR. [chap. 

and it may be safely inferred that both the statement of 
the preface and the elaborate notes appended to each 
poem are so much mystification. The pamphlet is of 
extreme rarity, and its contents Avere not reprinted until 
1858. I give by way of example the following characteristic 
and taking little piece with Avhich it concludes : — 

Oh Rahdi, where is happiness ? 

Look from your arcade, the sun rises from Busrah ; 

Go thither, it rises from Ispahan. 

Alas, it rises neither from Ispahan nor Busrah, 

But from an ocean impenetrable to the diver. 

Oh, Ilahdi, the sun is happiness. 

To Avhich Landor adds a note to say that " this poem 
resembles not those ridiculous quibbles Avhich the English 
in particular call epigrams, but rather, abating some little 
for Orientalism, those exquisite EidylUa, those carvings as 
it were on ivory or on gems, which are modestly called 
epigrams by the Greeks." 

This little publication, as was natural from its shape and 
and character, attracted no attention, nor did Landor 
attempt anything in the same manner afterwards. Two 
years later, immediately before his expedition to Paris in 
1802, he put forth another small volume under the title of 
"Poetry, by the author of Gebir." This contains two short 
narrative poems in blank verse — Clirysaor and the Pho- 
cceans, besides a few miscellaneous lyrics in Latin and 
English. Landor's mind was still occupied Avith the 
mythic past of Laetic Spain ; and Clirysaor is an episode 
of the war betAveen Gods and Titans, m which Gades, 
Cadiz, is severed from the mainland by Neptune at the 
request of Jove. Both in subject and in treatment it 
seems to foreshadoAV the Hyperion of Keats, except that 
the manner of the elder poet is more massive, more 


iiOMitntuI, and ptopoctiooftldj !•■* ta<ckl thaa that of 
tht yoangv. To my mind Ckrjfmur ii Luidot^s finest 
pitee of umiiro writing in blank rene ; Ion 
in ili Bovmnent than CTaMr, moce lofty and im] 
tten anj of the kter ** HeUanki ** with which it waa 
aAarwaidi iBOOvpontod. At the time of ita paUieataon 
thia poem made a deep impiemifm wgmk Wmdewotth.* 
The .Ttocwmw, oo the other hand, whieh tdla of the 
fi^ifftJ^JMiBi of the ofdony of Maarilit by eB%mnti of that 
meei n aobjoot whieh had been in Lendof^ mtml iiBee 
Oxfoid dey% is eo ftagmentaiy and eo obeeare aa to 
batta the moal tattKkMa rtndwit. It eontainai like all 
Lndoi^ eaify poetry, imagm both <wnd«meeil and Tirid, 
ea well ae wei^ty rafleetiooe we^fatQy ezpreamd ; but 
in iu aeqnenee and iaeidente the poem ii» to me at 
leMt» «*«*««»yM^ 80 at the time it aeema to Imto 
been fooBd by 8o«they, who haeteneil to review 
thia new pabUeataon by the unknown olgeet of hie 
pw f hma imthnaiaam, bat eoold find little to my in its 

Aw i T lb tT teak whieh oooDpted \911t\n at ^«* time wae the 
reeditii^ of (%Mr, in eo^jvaetkm with hia brother 
Robert, then at Oxloid. In order to make the 
more popular, the brothem wpr inl ad it with 
and wrttt • eome of the latter being intended to dear vp 
iMflhultlw, others to modify pointa *«fi« M «i^ ii i g whieh, m 
fcr isitaMSL the chanwter of BmmapaiteL the arthftr hnd 
dmi^sd his mimL At the ame time thqr published 
■spsiBtily a liitin tiiniiiiifm, iHUeh, tiytlisr with e 

%.i,rymm Is iMiliMf ily prfata4 m pMt of iW mmm peasi wkk 
S^fVMPaMMH «Mah was writtea twMrty j^m** leier, mA wfik 
wWek H kes aeiyM el eU to *K 

38 LANDOR. [chap, 

scliolarly and vigorous preface in the same language, 
Walter had prepared expressly at Eobert's instigation by 
way of helping the piece into popularity. These, it must 
be remembered, were the days of Vincent Bourne, Bobus 
Smith, Frere, Canning, and AVellesley, when the art of 
Latin versification was studied, practised, and enjoyed not 
in scholastic circles alone, but by a select public of the 
most distinguished Englishmen ; so that there was not 
quite so much either of pedantry or of simplicity in the 
fraternal enterprise as appeared at first sight. 

At the end of the volume of " Poetry " published in 
1802 there had already appeared one or two lyrics re- 
ferring, though not yet under that name, to the lady 
whom Landor afterwards called lanthe. More were 
appended, and this time with the name, to yet another 
experimental scrap of a volume in verse, having for 
its chief feature a tale in eight-syllable rhyme called 
Gwilang and Helga, suggested by Herbert's translation 
from the Icelandic. This appeared in 1804 or 1805, 
while Robert Landor was still at Oxford, and by him, if 
by no one else, Avas dutifully reviewed in a periodical of 
his own creation, the Oxford lieoiew. From these years, 
about 1802 — 1806, dates the chief part of Landor's 
verses written to or about lanthe. AVhether in the form 
of praise, of complaint, or of appeal, these verses are for 
the most part general in their terms, and do not enable 
us definitely to retrace the course of an attachment on 
which Landor never ceased to look back as the strongest 
of his life, and for the object of which he continued 
until her death to entertain the most chivalrous and tender 
friendship. Landor's verses in this class, although not 
in the first rank of love-poetry, nevertheless express much 
contained passion in their grave, concise way, and 


«Uon fiul to iIlclad^ withm the pottriMd iMl ot imm, a 
•olid aad fptopriato \umi, howwTt aianle, of Uioaglit. 
Bm% in ftaoBwwJMt dapiMiBd indomiiiootkay, k a good 

I Md bar band, llM pMg* of bliM^ 
B«r kMid Ihi* lnwlliil a^ witUivir, 

Ity kMft «M MM Iku iMta WM tn*. 

Nov I teffo toU hv I mm! part. 

Bto itekM 1^7 iMBd. riw bids adiM. 
Her rfMM tka klM-«laa, avj iMMt ! 

Han Barar «aa Iha haait far 7«i. 

In oUmt piaoM wo gei a move oaUpoken tale of pmi 
daU^di and of tbo pain of ptaaant aapaiakiaii. Tho lady 
want abroad, and tha mUomMM d Landoc^a Ufa incraaaad. 
H« mored fraqoontly balwaan Walea, Bath, CUIIoq, 
Warwiek, OzfMd, and Loodoa. Wa ind him in aloaa 
eoma p o ndaiMi a gaMntty on anlijaeta of litantera or 
adiolankip, with kia fkionda Gary and Biieh. Another 
of hia intimata frtaada of theyaanjnat piaeading theaa 
hadbaan Boogjh, a young Isvyar SMiriad to a da^^ ter 
of Wtlkaa, and than of a aUning pvoniaa whidi 
■■owMwiiii off later into dii^ppointaMttt and nadiooiky. 
With him Lander on dighl oeanieft or noMhad almit 
thia time onaofhia impaWrc^ inaeoMOahla qnanal- 
tha ■wnlimi hia frthei'a haahh «aa ipndnaUy anti 
ftdly bnakii« nik. It waa eridant thai Walt«r • 
aoon eema into poaaaaakm of tha patrimonial * 
hk tnharifcnea. Ha did nol wdl that ofont 
hia aUovnnea. Wa ind him baying a horn 
a Tftian another, a Hogaith on tha third ; ami 
baginnfav to aaamne the hahila of a gantlanu: : 
party and taala. Ha waa fnU at tha aame time of lolly 
Hlaiaiy and other. Tha expedition of the flaal 

40 LANDOR. [ch. ii, 

under Xelson called forth some verses of which we cannot 
but regret the loss, and in which the writer seemed, to 
quote the friend to whom he addressed them, *' to have 
heen inspired by the prophetic spirit ascribed to the 
poets of old, and to have anticipated the glorious victory 
of Xelson, the news of which had reached me just before 
I received them." The victory in question was the battle 
of Trafalgar, and between the date of this letter, K'ovember 
11, 1805, and Christmas of the same year, Dr. Landor 
had died, and Walter had come into possession of his 

Mou Bxmnmm asd m >mhao»— batp— waik — 

(1«05— 1«14.) 

As toon M ha was h» own WMrtw, iMiilor imeeadad to 
bit iftyle of liviiiig in piopoctiaii to Im iBtrmwi! 
or latber beyond cncb propottioa m it toned oat. 
Ho conliBQcd to mice Bttb bie bcudoMctank ond. mlet>- 
DoUy el keel, liTcd tben for aooM taae tbo life of OB J olbor 
young, elthoQgb indeed be woe not now eo Teiy 7<mui8» 
Fortanki. Hie pobtkil otanioiie ««m n iouM of mnm 
aeoadol, end it wm wimatbed that ujollMr mhi talkiut 
ee Lender talked woold bovo been eeUed to eeeonnt fur .: 
oT«r and otar agUB. Onca or twke^ indeed, it aaane ae 
if caDiaioBB ImA oafy beam nmtad by Iba good oAeaa of 
fricnda; bot tbare via anaiiitblm 9^^>oo^ Lander wbieb 
did nol e nww i tag e rbeWa^y ; partly, no donbl, Ua obviona 
intMiddity, and partly, «• any infei^ bb baUtwl mmI. 
neMOBtbe point of pitaonal oovlaiy ofiA in tboaidal 
of bie Boet alartli^ MlUciL Pntepib too^ 
eaanwd to V>aa irirtbiiy of ita odJoaiaai in n 
of Lander^ known atandinf and fertaniL 
port iiTiflgiialiiil at tbii liM bii vanhb and bb • 
tkMMb and bia own ptodi|aityfai tbe nrtlar of 
ouviagai^ eenranle, plala, piatwM^ and tbe likiV )>■(< 

42 LANDOE. [chap. 

tenance to the exaggeration. In his personal habits, it^ 
must at the same time be noted, Landor Avas now, as 
ahvays, frugal. He drank water, or only the lightest wines, 
and ate fastidiously indeed, but sparely. All his life he 
would touch no viands but such as were both choice and 
choicely dressed, and he preferred to eat them alone, or 
in the company of one or two, regarding crowded repasts 
as fit only for savages. " To dine in company with more 
than two is a Craulish and a German thing. I can hardly 
bring myself to believe that I have eaten in concert with 
twenty ; so barbarous and herdlike a practice does it now 
appear to me, such an incentive to drink much and talk 
loosely ; not to add, such a necessity to speak loud ; 
which is clownish and odious in the extreme." The 
speaker in the above passage is Lucullus, but the senti- 
ments are Landor's own. Xeither does Landor seem at 
any time to have taken trouble about his dress ; having 
indeed in later life come to be conspicuously negligent in 
that particular. In these early Batli days we have to 
picture him to ourselves simply as a solid, massive, 
energetic presence, in society sometimes silent and ab- 
stracted, sometimes flaming with eloquence and indigna- 
tion ; his figure robust and commanding, but not tall, his 
face principally noticeable for its bold, full, blue-grey 
eyes and strong, high-arched broAvs, Avith dark hair falling 
over and half concealing the forehead, and a long, stub- 
born upper lip, and aggressive set of the jaw, betokening 
truly enough the passionate temper of the man, yet in 
conversation readily breaking ujd into the sunniest, most 
genial smile. 

Such as he Avas, then, Landor Avas in high request for 
the time being in the assembly-rooms both of Bath and 
Clifton. These, no doubt, Avere the days in Avhich, as he 

m.] B.\Tn. « 

10 ameh umojiaee from hit bad daatiag. *'How 
gm u mmt j Hm my batii adktd," tnok k hk kuge waj of 
pattiBg Hi " wboi olbcn were in the fbll mjoputoi of 
that norattiaD whkh I had no q|^fc ovan to pailaka oL" 
X«T«rthalanb Laodor waa kindlj lookad on hj the tux, 
and only too impataooily ready to anawar a^ with aj^ 
ff** ^f'l^HiTtit win imaiima and wata ruH^**^ *** Than 
ia afvaa noi waalfaig^ in hiadaaliwgi with and hia bngM^ 
oaaandniiwthialiiiBf pariod> atonehof < 
lakiehiMiaa, a dbadow ot vulgarity nonhaia 
toba di aewaadintha wayaof thkaoatunvnlfMrrfa 
kind. Bat aodi ahadowa won nMialy on tha 
Inwardly, Landoi^a latteai Aow M"^ ill mVmf, and 
longiag, if ha only know how to find it» tsm aciathing 
high and elaadfcit in hia life. Ha waa giran aa mneh aa 
av«r to aolid reading and reHaaHoB, and atiirad in a 
mooMnt to whokaooM and aanly aonow at tha loea of a 
fMand or tha bnaeh of an old maoctiatkn. A iin. 
Ijnnba^ whom ha had wamly legenlwl ftom boyhood, 
diad ahont thk tima at Warwick, and aoon afkvwank 
oanM tha nawa oC tha anddan daath in Indk of Boaa 
Ajhmm, tha friend of Wakh daya to whoaa aaenal kan 
landor, m wa aaw, had been indaUad for tha finl hini 
"f OMr. B y both thag t^kawa Laadar wm daepty Morad, 
i.y that o rffcaa ^h»»V momkl hk thoMJrta baJM fcr 
daya and Ughto antaialy pneeeeaeil. During hk Tigik ha 
wreto tha fiwt draft of tha li ttk aly^ "aarrad aa it 
in hrocy or in gMMy* whiah in ita ktar 

Ak, vtMl aralk ito eeeyini SBM r 

Ak, viMiIke km dMM ? 
Wkat cveiy virlaek CMty giae* r 
I AjkHT, alt vert lUww 

44 LANDOE. [chap. 

Eose Aylmer, whom these wakeful eyes ^ 

May weep, but neyer see, 
A night of memories and of sighs 

I consecrate to thee. 

Just, natural, simple, severely and at the same time 
hauntingly melodious, however baldly or stoically they 
may strike the ear attuned to more high-pitched lamenta- 
tions, these are the lines which made afterwards so deep 
an impression upon Charles Lamb. Tipsy or sober, it is 
reported of that impressionable spirit a few years before 
his death, he would always be repeating Rose Aylmer, 
The effect obtained by the iteration of the young girl's 
two beautiful names at the beginning of the fourth and 
fifth lines is an afterthought. In place of this simple, 
musical invocation, the fourth line had originally begun 
with a lame explanatory conjunction, " For, Aylmer," 
and the fifth with a commonplace adjective, " Sweet 
Aylmer." In the seventh line " memories " is a correction 
for the alliterative and vaguer "sorrows" of the first 
draft. Landor's affection for the same lost friend and 
companion is again expressed, we may remember, in 
another poem of a much later date headed Abertawy, 
which furnishes a good example of his ordinary manner, 
part playful, part serious, and not free from slips both 
of taste and workmanship, in this kind of autobiographical 
reminiscence, and which ends with the folloAving gravely 
tender lines : — 

Where is she now ? Call'd far away 
By one she dared not disobey, 
To those proud halls, for youth unfit, 
Where princes stand and judges sit. 
Where Gauges rolls his widest wave 
She dropt her blossom in the grave ; 
Her noble name she never changed. 
Nor was her nobler heart estranged. 

BATU. a 

.mil oihen ooaunng in the 

• " •- ♦•— 1805—1806, 

f Um tkeiM 

iighnlt and Li ctcd Mid 

t' •« title :iir ■} degbc 

i voied by 


. ....:.. . . ■ ..ulo 

by lanib^, of loTe>poeiiM addrcased in 

printed whaterer wm mariced vith a pencil by a woman 
wlio loved BM^ and I coMaHad aU Imt eaprioea. I add^d 
iOMa Latin poatiy of my own; aoie pan in its Latinity 
than ita aenttmenU When yon lead the Simomidea, pily 
and fatgire bm.** Saroal of iMidot'a eariy wiiliBga 
an BOW nftttmtniij rare, won ttma <mm indeed bdog only 
known to exist in a aolitaiy example; hot of the 
Simomidea, eo fvaa IhaTebeenahletoaaBalain,noieT>n 
n iinfm eopj hM bean ptiawed. 

Soon afler ihk, moved, 11 wonld aeam, partly by hia 
•tainad tnaneai^ and partly by Ue aaagnine imi^inathwi, 
iMidorooneeived the plan of attenatiBg hia |«lmndealala 
in StafadaiiiM, in o^lar to aei|tdia another yiaUfaig,or 
capable of being made to yield, hnger irtanw in a wilder 
partoftheooontfy. He tonMd hia tboi^lOa tellowanla 
the lakaa. Ham he nmdo n tonr in the ipiii« of 1807 ; 
fannd an artale whiah enehoited him, beride the amaU 
lumantic Lnke of Loweawater, and at oaeo bapn Mgatia* 
tiona fcr ita pwwhaee Thaee falling thrangh, he in the 
Mart ytar pilehed upon another and n very noil* piopmty, 
which wee for aale in n eoontty neamr to hie own aaene- 
tomed hannti^ thaft^ nmnely, of Uanthooy on thfc Wahh 

46 LANDOE. [chap. 

border. To his overwlielming desire to become lord of 
Llanthony all impediments bad now to give way, A^ith 
what consequences to himself and others we shall see. 

But before the complicated arrangements connected 
with this purchase were completed, events of great interest 
in Landor's life had come to pass. First there was the 
beginning of his acquaintance Avith Southey. Of all 
English writers of that age, they were the two Avho 
most resembled each other by their science in the tech- 
nical craft of letters, by their high and classical feeling 
for the honour and dignity of the English language, and by 
the comprehensiveness and solidity of their reading. Ever 
since Southey had discovered that Landor was the author 
of Gehir, and Landor that Southey was its admiring critic, 
a preconceived sympathy had sprung up between the two 
men. Since then Southey had written Madoc, the first, 
and Thalaba.f the second, of his mythological epics, and 
in Madoc had avowedly profited by Landor's example, 
both as to the way of seeing, as he put it, for the pur- 
poses of poetry, and as to the management of his blank 
verse. On his tour in the lake country, Landor, who 
was no seeker of acquaintances, and indeed once boasted, 
in his serene way, that he had never accepted a letter of 
introduction in his life, had missed, and expressed his 
regret at missing, the opportimity of meeting Southey. 

It was in Southey's native Bristol, at the lodgings of 
his friend Danvers, that he and Landor met for the fu'st 
time in the spring of 1808. They took to each other at 
once, and a friendship was formed which lasted without 
break or abatement for tliirty years. In many of their 
opinions Landor and Southey differed much already, and 
their differences were destined to increase as time Avent on, 
but differences of opinion brought no shadow between 

Ill] aocmiEY. 47 

tbem. Koch MMOM inatincUvelj to Iuito reeognixfnl wluU 
erer wm itfriing, loyal, and magnanimooft in the other'* 
aatem Eaeh, tliovgh Uiia u a minor mattar, haattil j 
raaptstedin tba oUmt Um aarapalow aad aeooiimliihad 
litoniy woiicnaiL EaehptobaUyHkadaadbadaftDow-' 
faaliag for the oUMC^a boyiah exabenuwa of ritaliij and 
ptoMMM to Kugg&mtiaii aad danoMiitioB. For it ia to 
U noted thai Laodoc^aiotuMMiaa v»a aiiiDai always with 
BMB of emphatic and dadamalory doqnanea like hia own. 
Hat, tho moai honoowd friend of hia youth, SooUiejand 
FkandiHaie, the moatdmridiedof hiamaBliood, wcnall 
three Olympian talker* in their degrse. BqI Landor and 
hia kindled Olympian^ tl wnma, m i ilwah w wl each olher, 
and knew how to thndw aad Ugjhten without eoiliBioB. 
Theia kit, aa it hi^ipmii^are the Terywotda allerwarda 
need by Sonthqr in ptepaaagn wmimnn fiaoad for the 
kind of pwnmnji ho wonld moel ia UndoK. *<Ho doea 
men than any of the goda of aD my mythologiMS for hia 
v«j woida are thoader aad Ughteiagt «Mh ia the poww 
and flplandoor with which they honl ovt. Bnt all ia 
perfoctly aataal ; there ia no triak aboal him, ao pnaeh- 
iac ao pkyiag oA* If we thoa have Soathqr'a toal^ 
moi^ at onee to the impremheaam aad to the iat^ty 
of Laador^ patanaalily, we hare Laador^ to ** the fwial 
Tofoemkl mdiaaleye " of SoBthaj, baaidMa haadred other 
auMamiiim of aiMfoaforhii pamom aad adarinliaB for 
hit ahanater aad Ua powen. 

With the immediato leaidl ef hia owa aad laador'a 
foai eoBfenatfoa, Soathey eoold noi foS to U gmtified. 
He had haoa fonad «f kte to abmdoa hia moal ihHiihad 
teak, the aoatiaaBaea of hit emiaa of mythofogfo opiai. 
Thephda Maaoa wm that he eoald not aAnlto 
time on mork eo littla 

48 LANDOE. [chap. 

Southey told him this, was in [an ijistant all generosity 
and delicacy, begging to be allowed to print future 'pro- 
ductions of the kind at his own expense, — " as many as 
you will write, and as many copies as you please." In all 
this there was not the least taint of patronage or con- 
descension on the part of the magnificent young squire 
and scholar towards the struggling, although already dis- 
tinguished, man of letters, his senior by only a year. 
Landor was as incapable of assuming superiority on any 
grounds but those of character and intellect as of enduring 
such assumption in others. Southey, as it turned out, 
only made practical use of his friend's offer to the extent 
of allowing him to buy a considerable number of copies 
of Kehama when that work appeared. But the encourage- 
ment was everything to him, and had for its consequence 
that Kehama, already begun and dropped, AA'as indus- 
triously resumed and finished, and followed in due course 
by Rodericlc, the manuscript of either poem being duti- 
fully sent off in successive instalments as it was written 
for Landor to read and criticise. At the same time an 
active and intimate correspondence sprung ixp between 
the two men, and in after-years supplied, indeed, the 
chief aliment of their friendship, their meetings being 
from the force of circumstances rare. 

The next event in Landor's life was his sudden and 
brief appearance as a man of action on the theatre of 
European war. Xapoleon Buonaparte had just carried into 
effect the infamous plot which he had conceived in order 
to make himself master of Spain and Portugal. But before 
his brother Joseph had time to be proclaimed king at 
IMadrid, all Spain was up in arms. Against the French 
armies of occupation there sprang up from one end of the 
country to the other first a tumultuary and then an organ- 


n.'-- vi t rancc, and m ' 

'Impair b«fVl to give \^ ^ 

How mach of anarchic«l wlf-wekiiig and dkbacted, poril. 

' in nali^ by latent in Umm palriol 

!- miqMeted in tha entlmaiaam of the 

■specially, the Spaniard* were paa- 

riee of heroea, on wboaa Tielory 

n of tha worid. laateal bdp, 

boUi in detpatched to the inmr* 

■—*. Pbete and oialoa 
•reaaed to join thair 
ithey, and Coleridge, 

'intaina, did their 

Uon, Landor on 
•TMdqg at 

-•fs--^ ~ -— , — '-"totn 

tmdience of two Irteh gHiitleiui-: aidoor, 

thr«« datamiaad to atn .i« 

,iAt\y in Angwt thaj »li '.*• 

Connna, which waa the aeat of an Ei^Uili ai 
StoaH, aftirwiida iwhuwdnr in Flnia. F^ 
Landor i ddi fid a lall« to tha proviadal ^ 
aneloeiag a gift of ten thoinand reals for tha relief of the 
nhdbitanta of Veatanda, a town hunt by tha Fk«Mh, 
and at tha Maa time paoclafaidag that ha woold ai|nip at 
his own ooet, and aeeoapany to tha fiaU, all Tolontaan 
ttptothaBanberofatho(Maad iHwajghtohooiatojoia 
hia. Both gift and pwAiMtina wwa tteidtfblly ae- 
kaoviadgMl; a body of Tofamtaan wm proapt^ or- 
9udaedi and laador aarehad with thaa thim«h Leon 


50 LANDOE. [chap. 

and Gallicia to join the Spanish army nnder Blake in 
the mountains of Pnscay, In the meantime his incurably 
jealous and inflammable spirit of pride, inflammable espe- 
cially in contact with those in office or authority, had 
caught fire at a depreciatory phrase dropped by the Eng- 
lish envoy, Stuart, at one of the meetings of the Junta. 
Stuart's expression had not really referred to Landor at 
all, but he chose to apply it to himself, and on his march 
accordingly indited and made public an indignant letter 
of remonstrance. 

To the groundless disgust which Landor had thus con- 
ceived and vented at a fancied slight, was soon added 
that with which he was more reasonably inspired by the 
incompetence and sloth of the Spanish general, Elake. 
He remained with the army of the !North for several idle 
weeks in the neighbourhood of Eeynosa and Aguilar. 
He was very desirous of seeing Madrid, but denied him- 
self the excursion for fear of missing a battle, which after 
all was never fought. It was not until after the end of 
September, when the convention between Sir Hew Dal- 
rymple and Junot had been signed in Portugal, and 
when Blake's army broke up its quarters at Reynosa, that 
Landor, his band of volunteers having apparently melted 
away in the meanwhile, separated himself from the Spanish 
forces and returned suddenly to England. He narrowly 
escaped being taken prisoner in the endeavour to travel 
by way &f Bilbao, which had then just been re-entered 
by the French under Xey. The thanks of the supreme 
Junta for his services were in course of time conveyed 
to him at home, together with the title and commission of 
an honorary colonel in the Spanish army. 

Landor had departed leaving his countrymen in a 
frenzy of enthusiasm. He found them on his return in a 

ni.] SPAIN. ft 

tmaj ot fadig— lioii awl d i ^p p M l . The mOilaiy eoa)pto> 
I JMl dfceled ia PotioffU wm ilaww i K u d bj pofmhr 
iuUmmotnmmmmndhaj; aad noi bgr popokr 
only. Urn id kltaB and of thm^lii an hM- 
iaaUy too vodi given U> dwrhimiiig at tlieir «aa6 agatiict 
tka daliBqpMMka oi an of aolkii ami afliin. Tbeta- 
•rttaUa ftktMNi of piaetkal politioi fOMaiaa halt anoqgb 
ahcadjr, and tha oAea of the political thinker and critic 
dMold ba to aappty, not hmk, bat Ugbt. Tha difliwiltiw 
wfakh attend h» own miM olaal a i l taak, tha tMk of 
aaddM allar *»»<1 p ytn' m f^ iiiw aalotair tfothi^ ihirnH 
taMh hiM to niaka alloiwaBea for tha Cu mon mgnt 
dillraiHiai whidi beaet tha pniitiniaB. tha iMtt obUgad, 
aadd tha alaih of islaMilB w4 taauitetMBay to poMAiae 
ftoaa hand to aoilh, aad at Ua pad, tha aoat nn- 
fttffinY and at tha aaaa tima tha noat indiKMBaabla 
of tha aatpwiwiBtal aita. Tha aady 7«ni of thia 
wil i i i j in Iftig^nd amy not hcra baen Tcata raaaik- 
abia for wiw or rpnaiifit afati— anahip ; they vara oar- 
tainly wiatlraMa far tha frutio t iUpwrtiwi of thoaa in 
poarar by thoaa vho kokad OB. Thawiitanof thalaka 
achool voM at thia tiflM aa load and aa littla raaaonahia 
in thair onteriaaaa a^yfRMp of aMn in tha H^flmn, 
andSonthoywaathakMBdaHofthasaU. Hklallaii^and 
eapaekOy htah < tari to LuMlor,on thapnblie qnartiona of 
tha hon^ can baldly ba nad avan nov withoot a tvi^gi of 
hwriHatfnn at tha apaetaela of n ana of hia knovladga^ 
rinaai ilj l , and eaadonr, giviag way to ao idla a foiy of 
and ■aladirtion. Landor on hia part ia 
by oanpaaaaa, and haa a battar hold both of 
i prinajplai^ ahho^gh ha ia laady to fo gnai 
k^gtha with hia ftiand in eondanation of tha Ei^iiih 
ndniilafi and cononandaa^ 

s 2 

62 LANDOR. [chap. 

In the succeeding winter and spring nothing but Spain 
was in men's minds or conversation. After the victojiy 
and death of Sir John Moore at Corunna in January, 
1809, Landor was for a while on the point of sailing for 
that country as a volunteer for the second time. Even- 
tually, however, he forbore, private affairs in connexion 
with his new property at Llanthony helping among other 
things to detain him. In order to effect this purchase 
Landor had required as much as 20,000Z. over and 
above the sum realized by the sale of his Staffordshire 
estate. For this purpose he made up his mind to sell 
Tachbrook, the smaller of the two properties in Warwick- 
shire destined to devolve to him at the death of his mother. 
Her consent was necessary to this step, as well as that of 
his brothers, and an act of parliament authorizing the breach 
of the entail. All these matters, together with some minor 
arrangements protecting the interests of INIrs. Landor and 
her other children by charges on the new estate, and the 
like, were got through in the summer of this year (1809). 
Early in the autumn of the same year we find Landor 
established in temporary quarters on his new property. 
It was a wUd and striking country that he had chosen for 
his future home. Most readers are probably familiar with 
the distant aspect of those mountains whose sombre masses 
and sweeping outlines arrest the eye of the spectator looking 
westward over the Welsh marches from the summit of the 
Malvern hills. These are the Black or Hatterill moun- 
tains of Monmouthshire and Brecknockshire. Of all their 
recesses the most secluded and most romantic, although 
not the most remote, is the valley of Ewias, within which 
stands the ruined priory of Llanthony.' This valley 

' Pronounce Llanthony ; said to be short for Llandevi Nan- 
thodeni, i.e. church of St. David by the water of Hodeni. The 


. into wooded dtn^i 

otren, and then 

•" J^nt Uaddipt; A.,.^ . : 

'thewoihw ■nditMaclimato 
flodani, Hnoddn, or Hoady. 

--„ -, -^ - - towards Um •oath, and WM 

blocked in •ncMntUmM with thicks and monMnt,M> thai 
Hi only aiipioach waa over <»• or olher of tta lofty hitanl 
ridgeiL InUMeedayatheaecoewaawoaltolaTapoBUMfrw 
who erw entered it the qidl of aolitade and penitential awe. 
Itwa8«idthat8t.I>aTidhMlfoca timedweh hereaaa 
hermit In the reign of William Bnfbe a eertaiB kaj^t 
having foond his way into the ralley daring the chaae^ the 
call fell npoo him to do the like; the fame <d hia eoarar* 
rioormdied theeoovi; he was joined by a secood seeker 
after the holy lift, then by othen; gifts and wealth poured 
in npcm Uiem ; they wore enrolled as a brotherhood of the 
order of St AngoaliBa^ and boilt thamaalTia a priory in the 
midst of the TaDqr, oaa leral Aild half a Aukmg ebore the 
•tfsam. Ita loiaa are still standing dark and Tansrabls 
amid the Terdnrs of tha mUsy, a mmbKng aasambkige of 
trmwated Umoa, dtmooliBd i«aBbyl«qr« ihaltarad ajales, 
sad modMdasd oathaOdiagL Tba i siiaiiii ot the prior^s 
lodgiiy,loyUw r withtlmtoaeofthetm>weB ki ntowi 
to which th^ are eo at lg n oiii ^ are fitted np^ the aaeiHil 

Mriy hiataej U tids hmmm hotdMr pttaqr te WMer kaewa Ikaa 
tit of ehiBi Mj ofcsr ftiaaiiilii af tke mbm ktadt am tW 
•ftWas of Mr. loberts ia dnhmttftt C am tt m iit, *«L L, Xa •. 
aad oTMr. fViiwu. Mi^ 9i4 wmkm, TaL L j alsft a riMak by 
wiiiar ia Ite ^•^^•.iaa. I«I. ftwa w%kk bal two 

54 LANDOE. [chap, 

sanctities all forgotten, as a bailifi's house and inn. The 
avocations of dairy, scullery, and larder are carried on 
beneath the shelter of the other tower, while the Avild 
rose and snapdragon wave from the crevices overhead, and 
the pigeons flit and nestle among the shaftless openings. 

Such as Llanthony Priory is now, such, making al- 
lowance for some partial dilapidations which neither he 
nor his successors took enough care to prevent, it in all 
essentials was when Landor took it over from its former 
owner in the spring of 1809, and along with it the fine 
estate to which it owes its name. The property is some 
eight miles long, and includes for that distance the whole 
sweep of the vale of Ewias. The valley farms contain 
rich pasturage and fairly productive corn-lands, while the 
eastern ridge is covered with grass, and the western Avith 
richly heathered moor. The moors yield tolerable shoot- 
ing, and the Hondy is famous for its trout. But it was 
not for the sake of shooting or fishing that Landor came 
to Llanthony. He was, indeed, devoted to animal?, but 
not in the ordinary English sense of being devoted to the 
pastime of killing them. One of the points by which 
observers used afterwards to be most struck in Landor 
was the infinite affection and mutual confidence which 
subsisted between him and his pets of the dumb creation, 
both dogs and others, with whom the serenity of his 
relations used to remain perfectly undisturbed throughout 
his most explosive demonstrations against the delin- 
quencies of his own species. But his sympathies for 
animals were not confined to pets. In early days he had 
plied both gun and rod, but by this time or soon after- 
wards he seems to have quite given them up. Even in 
youth he had suftered acute remorse on one day finding 
a partridge, which he had bagged over night and supposed 


d«Ml, aiiU alitro ia tU Mantag. CnMliy wm for hua Um 
clu< ''if noi indMd," m he ohm pal it, ** the only,* mb, 
umI emaHj to aaiad* ww ai keal m hid as enialiy to 
mtKL Angling in bior life he ooee wrote of •■ " that 
Bin.** In a letter to hk aiater he writes moi« tolenntly, 
■ad with a touch of hia peeolar ehaifli, of field apoita in 
gHMnl :— " Lei men do theee thiagi if they wilL Fn- 
hapa there ia ao harm in it ; patha|« it makes them no 
CHMUar than they wooU he olherwke. Bat il m hard to 
take away what we eaaaol ghre, and Hfe ia a pleaami 
thiag— «t leaat to hirds. No douht the yonag ones aay 
teader thiagi to one aaother, aad erea the old ooee do 
aoi dream of death.** 

If Laador wb thiu little of a aportunan, then waa 
aaolher ptorince of a ooontiy gentlemaa*a poiaaita iatu 
whieh he eonU entor with all hie heart, aad that waa 
phatiBg. He hnred treee aa he loved fiowan^ aoi with 
aay arieatific or pnietfteal kaowledge, hot with a poet*a 
kaaaami of p e twythm , h a jght a aeil hya peenUar veia of 
re fi aet i ve aad imi^inatiTe ■aaoeiitinn. He oooU aoi bear 
eilhar the aaaeoeanry plaekiag of the oaa or Mliag ef 
the other. **SK he mpiemto hiaaalf ia om of Ua 
diakgaaa aa erriafaaiag at the eight of two fcUea piaei ia 
Lomfcapiv — 

. . . All, Don i'cptao I old tieei ia thttr Uviag atate are the 
ealy thbffitket awaey eaaaslemiaaai. Bivem have their 
Wda, laa faito eitiei aad tiafmie ■naatalai fcr It ; MKtkt awil 

vplikeeskalatieaaatitaUdfiHs trea the (be spirit ofJIaa, 
It yaaMB away aad vaaishaa befam veaankle Ima. WkaC a 

bh«e! wfcMMiiaiiiit? la n l ir Hi f iia w tome 

tkaa the plM ilMlf . 

56 LANDOR. [chap. 

The interlocutor, Don Pepino, explains that the odour 
proceeds from a neighbouring linden, and that the linden, 
a very old and large one, is doomed ; whereupon Landor, — 

O Don Pepino ! the French, who abhor whatever is old and 
whatever is great, have spared it ; the Austrians, who sell their 
fortresses and their armies, nay, sometimes their daughters, 
have not sold it : must it fall ? . . . 

How many fond and how many lively thoughts have been 
nurtured under this tree ! how many kind hearts have beaten 
here ! Its branches are not so numerous as the couples they 
have invited to sit beside it, nor its blossoms and leaves as the ex- 
pressions of tenderness it has witnessed. What appeals to the pure 
all-seeing heavens! whatsimilitudestothe everlasting mountains ! 
what protestations of eternal truth and constancy from those 
who now are earth ; they, and their shrouds, and their coffins ! 

The passage in which Landor has best expressed his 
feeling about flowers is one of verse, and one of the few 
in liis writings which are well known, though not so well 
as by its unmatched delicacy and grave, unobtrusive sweet- 
ness it deserves. 

When hath wind or raia 

Borne hard upon weak plants that wanted me, 

And I (however they might bluster round) 

Walkt off? 'Twere most ungrateful : for sweet scents 

Are the swift vehicles of still sweeter thoughts, 

And nui'se and pillow the dull memory 

That would let drop without them her best stores. 

They bring me tales of youth and tones of love, 

And 'tis and ever was my wish and way 

To let all flowers live freely, and all die 

(Whene'er their Genius bids their souls depart) 

Among their kindred in their native place. 

I never pluck the rose ; the violet's head 

Hath shaken with my breath upon its bank 

And not reproacht it ; the ever- sacred cup 

Of the pure lily hath between my hands 

• Felt safe, unsoil'd, nor lost one gi-ain of gold. 

III.] LiaNTHONV. §7 

** 1 lots Umm bawuf ol and peaosfitl tiihci^'' I^iidor my 
•iMwban, with tpmkl nftnMM to Um imran of Lkn- 
ihtcmj ; ** tbey always awH one ia the mom plaet «t thm 
«MM mmob; and jmn hKf no mora afcel on tlMir 
plaeid taatAmmmom thui on ao nmaj of the aoit fcTowvd 
fodi.** Sodi ai« tho etqnwitw tiinJuniMiM of fseliag and 
i vUeh go toBBthar in Laador with lua 1 

With thoie tMlai and rt*** ! *"**"***, , then, and in hi* 
loidly, ima^iiiitlTe, aanguinelyinipnwticnl maaam, Landor 
enland npon hia new eaner as the benaAoMt landowner of 
a n ii ^aii and tee k n aid naj^d wih o od . HewonldboTe 
the priocy leatoted, and for thatpvpoaa poitione of the 
exiatinc niina were taken down, and their atonaa eaiaAdly 
avaberad. He would laiae a new ■f Trn for hiawilf 
and hia heii*,.«nd he aet the boildan to work arwotdintfy 
npoa a atta a qoaiier of a nule abore the mine. Com- 
awafaatnwa in the dktiiel wan hj wt^ faiidle.pethe 
■ad fcidai and T^iMfip T eel aanaa of aoa abovt the 
eonatnietioa of roeda and biiilgaa. Agjrkattaie waa 

and applied to Soalhqr and other Ikienla iv taaaata i^ 
ahonld iatvodnee and teeeh impcored aethoda of culthra- 
tioa. Tk^ mi^^fj^^^^^ — ^^HfYi^jy^ '■ I iMialieil. aiwl 
aaoroea; he waa baal npoa NekteiBt and dTiliring them 
The woode had anflarad from an^ael or maliea ; hewoald 
dothe the aidee of the vaUejwith eadma of Lebaaoa 
With that olject he boi^ two thnamml BWiai^ eakalatad 
to yiahi a haadtedaeadeeaeh. Intending to do tan timmee 
maeh eftarwmda^ ami «sahli« in the thought of the two 
mimoa eedaMraae whiah he wonld thaa have for the 
aheHer and the dej^t of podaaitj. 
Whik all them gnat opmationa wan in 

58 LANDOE. [chap. 

Landor was not a permanent resident, but only a frequent 
visitor, on his estate, inhabiting for a few weeks at a ti\ne 
the rooms in the church tower, and living in the intervals 
principally at Bath. Here, in the early spring of 1811, 
he met a young lady at a ball, and as soon as he had set 
eyes on her exclaimed, in the true Landorian manner, 
" By heaven ! that's the nicest girl in the room, and I'll 
marry her." And many her he did ; the adventure 
quickly ending in that irreversible manner, instead of, as 
others as rashly begun had ended, in protestations, mis- 
understandings, and retreat. Mr. Forster appositely con- 
trasts Landor's reckless action with his weighty and 
magnificent words concerning marriage : — " Death itself 
to tlie reflecting mind is less serious than marriage. The 
elder plant is cut down that the younger may have room 
to flourish : a foAv tears drop into the loosened soil, and 
buds and blossoms spring over it. Death is not even a 
blow, is not even a pulsation ; it is a pause. But marriage 
unrolls the awful lot of numberless generations. Health, 
Genius, Honour, are the words inscribed on some ; on 
others are Disease, Fatuity, and Infamy." But it was 
Landor's fate to be thus wise only for others ; wise on 
paper ; wise after the event ; wise, in a word, in every and 
any manner except such as could conduce to his own wel- 
fare. His marriage Avas not a happy one. His bride, 
Julia Thuillier, was the portionless daughter of an unpros- 
perous banker at Banbury, said to be descended from an old 
Swiss family. Landor, with his moods of lofty absence 
and pre-occupation, and Avitli the tumultuous and dis- 
concerting nature, sometimes, of his descents into the 
region of reality, must at best have been a trying com- 
panion to live with. Nevertheless it would seem as 
though a woman capable of sharing his thoughts, and of 

lit.] MABRIAOE. m 

him in kk ito of p— ion, m kit wiMr hkmA t 
to nuMge him ta btar jean^ faj yiiUfag 
to the ilom ai flmi, mrtil hit own mom of hmmmt 
tPOiU h» aioimil wad il vtmU diipMw Unlf ia pub of 
laqghlar, night have h*d an enriable^ if not an «mj, life 
with (MM 10 great-minded and ao fiindaMenlaHy kind and 
emnlaoai. Ma. LoMlor aeana to hairo hdl wme of the 
iifb of the domeatie artM ; ahe vw not one of thoae 
ine ^iriti who ttody to create, oat of the drewnalaneea 
aad d m mUn with which they have to deal, the heat 
attaiaahla ideal of a hoBM ; hat acommoBplaeepiOTiaeial 
heaoty cnoogh, althoogfa livdy and agreeable in her way. 
"God inchid,** in eoBTanatioa ooee growled Ludor, who 
waa habitoany retieei^ on hia pfivate ti o ubl ea , " that I 
ahoold do olherwiae than declare that die alwaya »n» 
agi eea bl e t o erecy oaw hot me.** She waa aixteen yena 
or mora youtger than bar hoabaiid, a fret of whidi, when 
dlftiumjua oee o ired, die aaean to hare been not dow to 
raaifldhim; and IhcMiaimpaHialeTideoeetoaiiowthat, 
in aone a leMl of the diaprtaa tHdeh led to bieaehea 
Move or laaa pannMHnI kalwiaB thmn, the iaoMdialely 

He htenlf oaee bnaka out, in iniiMiilli^ on lifltoa*! 

BMBMi IbM ImI bMwiMiM «e Ike veiee erihjr wMbw 
" thore are rtrj few who hare not done thia» !«■ grt, 
aMlfrl; aBdB»ayhatathoi«[htitc«iaaeMi^ef ilaali" 
Thaaa matlaw» howavor, bakMig lo a later pohiA of oar 
Mnatirv. At ftirt the little wife, with her goidaa hair, her 
■aibi^aBdheripiriti^aaaMBtohairtdoMTaiywaU. She 
aeeoaapaaiad lAador on hie vifttta to li a alh eay , w h a i a 
tkey rtechrad at gneiU» at fiist ia the toveriboaw of the 
l>riavy. aad later ia aooM that had baaa gaU kakitikia ia 

60 LAXDOR. [chap. 

tlie new house, several members of his family and friends. 
The Southeys, to Landor's great delight, were his 6rst 
visitors, coming in the summer of 1811, within a few 
months of his marriage. Later came his sisters, and later 
again, his mother. 

But neither the care of his estate nor his marriage had 
the least interrupted the habitual occupations of Landor's 
mind. What he really most valued in a beautiful country 
was the fit and inspiring theatre whicli it afforded for his 
meditations. "Whether in town or country he reflected 
• and composed habitually out walking, and therefore pre- 
ferred at all times to walk alone. There were half-hours, 
he represents himself as saying to Southey, when, although 
in good humour and good spirits, we would on no con- 
sideration be disturbed by the necessity of talking. '^ In 
this interval there is neither storm nor sunshine of the 
mind, but calm and (as the farmers call it) growing 
weather, in "which the blades of thought spring up and 
dilate insensibly. Whatever I do I must do in the open 
air, or in the silence of night ; either is sufficient ; but I 
prefer the hours of exercise, or, Avhat is next to exercise, 
of field-repose." In these years Landor was composing 
much. In 1810 he printed a couple of Latin odes. Ad 
Gustaciim Regem, Ad Gudavum exsuJem, and began the 
first of his IdylUa Hcrolca in that language, on the touch- 
ing story of the priest Coresus, his love and sacrifice. 
He also grappled for the first time with English traged}-. 
His choice of subject was dictated by his own and the 
genejal interest in and enthusiasm for Spain. He fixed on 
that romantic and semi-mythical episode of early Spanish 
history, the alliance of the heroic Count Julian with the 
invading ISIoors, of whom he had been formerly the scourge, 
against his own people and their King Roderick, in order 

iiu] COCKT JULIAN. «1 

lo iiiigii Um ottlngs which Bodcnek had don* to hit 
dii^lw* The MiM wAj&dk wm in TMiooi §anm oeeo* 
pfiag both Soothey and SooU aboai the noM tune; 
Soothiy in his epie of Boikrkik, eaU«d in the iret drtft 
/Wayo and tent in inalafaaanta as it was written to Landor ; 
and Soott in hia Vimm of Dtm Roderick. Landor had 
bcgn his tiagsdy, aa it happened, al the mbm time as 
Sonlhejr his efue, in the late sommer of 1810, and he 
§aUtmi il eaify the nasi q^riag. Hia tnigody and hie urn- 
fffimmA are aMonglj odxed np in a letter wiittan to 
Se nthay in Apiil, and ending ** Adieo, and fwngiatwlate 
OMi I iHgot to Mjthai I iMTa added thirtj-flva tenaa 

Inndor's theory waa thai the pawiwia ahonld in poetiy, 
and eipeeiaUy in tngedy, be repteasnted, "naked, Uke 
the boroaa and the OodiL'' In raalia^ the high and 
dcnenta pasriooa ot PA il ii f i " ) f and Jnlian, the ofltander 
sad the avangsr, ha haa gilded Imnaslf tof rivaby vith 
whalofei ia a ns t e i s^ haagjhty, prtgaaal^ and ciondai in 
theworitaofthewistiuBwhomha^eatnd^iwd fcrthoae 
qnalitiaa Bnt in miMi« hia ehamslerB np to this ideal 
li«%hl, ill iiAing In delinaata their p«rioaain fansoC 
thia haraia magj and riimiliiiilliM, tiik ** mkadnese,* to 
nse hii own word, Liadar hai aol» I think, snceeaded in 
kecpii« than httMUk Hmmui to bjwwlf dnrii^ the pto- 
eoMof their eraaliott they nmpMitkNHhly w«a; *«I bm^lht 
befera ne^" ha wiitia,*'tha rwAm nlmmt^kn, the vaiy 
tones of their Toieei^ their fooM, eeapladoM^ and slip. 
Utha4qr«iMl labomad, and at nj^ nnbwilMid mj 
■ind, shaddiag aaay teanL" XiiMtbiliM they do not 
live in like nNnnsr for the nader. Tha aoaeaption of 
Goal Jnlian, daipntily lovii^ both Ua iHilanMid 
da^ghlsr ml tkaeonUy ^riMl whieh ha hM taBHd in 

62 LANDOR. [chap. 

order to chastise her dishonourer ; inexorably bent on a 
vengeance the infliction of which costs him all the while 
the direst agony and remorse ; is certainly grandiose and 
terrible enough. But even this conception does not seem to 
be realized, except at moments, in a manner to justify 
the enthusiastic praise bestowed upon it by De Quincey, in 
his erratic, fragmentary, and otherwise grudging notes on 
Landor. Still less are we livingly impressed by the 
vanquished, remorseful, still defiant and intriguing 
Eoderickjthe injured and distracted Egilona,the dutiful and 
outraged Covilla, her lover Sisabert, or the vindictive and 
suspicious Moorish leader Muza. These and the other charac- 
ters are made to declare themselves by means of utterances 
often admirably energetic, and of images sometimes magnifi- 
cently daring ; yet they fail to convince or cany us away. 
This effect is partly due, no doubt, to defect of dramatic con- 
struction. The scenes of the play succeed each other by 
no process of organic sequence or evolution, a fact ad- 
mitted by Landor himself when he afterwards called it a 
series of dialogues rather than a drama. Some of them 
are tliemselves dramatically sterile, tedious, and confusing. 
Others, and isolated lines and sayuigs in almost all, are 
written, if not with convincing felicity, at any rate with 
overmastering force. On the whole, we shall be more 
inclined to agree with Lamb's impression of Count 
Julian than with De Quincey's. " I must read again 
Landor's Julian" writes Lamb in 1815. "I have not 
read it for some time. I think he must have failed in 
Koderick, for I remember nothing of him, nor of any 
distinct character as a character — only fine sounding 
passages." The reader may perhaps judge of the quality 
of the work by the following fragment, exhibiting at its 
highest point of tension the struggle between the enemies 

m.] ( OINT JULIAN. a 

RoikridK aiwl .i til mi nft.T Koderick han (kllen into 
Jnllui*! power. 

Jmiimm. OmU I apwlc {MliaMly who spHk to thw, 
I woald » J son . . . part of ikj 
It skiMM K to b* iM^^t. 

t'Btil tfcy paltTB qo^^ iU b«l aUj. 

1 kaiB BO lai% of pMce or ww, hvm thm. 

Jmlimm, Ko, tho« dial 4 atidj mmmi uolhi 
Aad HUM MM w4Mt a^n MtHV tli7 Miad. 
Bitiwr tb» enm tkcM WhwI, aad tkj kmam 
AmBmqi tlw iflii mta« rf MMttot 
Wear tka ^Mp fiate amy witk aridalglU pcajOT ) 
Or tkoa atek kaap tka iMla oT Baibaty. 
BkaH «aii aiBM tka aMwda tta* tkaaat tka ««0 
r^oai Hllry aaoB tin Ika akiM Ma i«ria. 
To dimw mp walv aad la Wag ii kaaw 
Ib tiM emokk |oard of Maw ▼ito taalj lMn% 
Wko rparaa tkM bade witk kaatJMdoad te» 
For igaonasa or thiij of Us ooaaMwd. 

BtdtHf. lalJMr tba poiaoa or tiM bovatriaf; 

Tb otkv'i paarioao dio aadi daatha aa tJboM i 
Shwoo ta tkdr o«» riwaU dia— 

mdmif, WbatwotwP 

/■Jioa. TWroara. 

JMarifo. U ua« lar roojuci, rognadaF 

JakMk XblalMt 

I poftrt a hallMr path, aay, fcaso tlM* o«. 
I aaMHa taaa nooi ovoiy ofaoa Haa a swv 
wyialaaiaMrtlwai IbaMawoatkw 
Uhx tf tlM»a dhw *tla wbw thoa injaarai it 
n iiln<»4 by tMa m» aai fotoa aa awar i 
•T1aihtliMy,1fatt ii tifi i U» 
Tb by a viOaia'a kaUk, 

Jmlimn. Bodavfan'a. 

LaaOat^iwaaUioiiaocaaotatoit whIi asMtteor 
in A voik oftkk kiad, bot ba haa 

04 LANDOR. [chap 

made a vivid and pleasant use of his own recent Spanish 
experiences in the passage where Julian speaks to his 
daughter of the retreats where she may hide her shame : — 

Wide are the regions of our far-famed land ; 
Thou shalt an'ive at her remotest bounds, 
See her best people, choose some holiest house ; 
Whether where Castro from surrounding vines 
Hears the hoarse ocean roar among his caves, 
And through the fissure in the green churchyard 
The wind wail loud the calmest summer day ; 
Or where Santona leans against the hill, 
Hidden from sea and land by groves and bowers. 

And again, — 

If strength be wanted for security, 

Mountains the guard, forbidding all approach 

With iron-pointed and uplifted gates, 

Thou wilt be welcome too in Aguilar, 

Impenetrable, marble-turreted, 

Surveying from aloft the limpid ford, 

The massive fane, the sylvan avenue ; 

Whose hospitality I proved myself, 

A willing leader in no impious war 

When fame and freedom urged me ; or mayst dwell 

In Eeynosas' dry and thriftless dale, 

Unharvested beneath October moons. 

Among those frank and cordial villagers. 

For the rest, Count Julian is not poor in solid and pro- 
found reflexions upon life, carved, polished, and com- 
pressed in the manner which w^as Landor's alone, as 

Wretched is he a woman hath forgiven ; 
With her forgiveness ne'er hath love retum'd, 

or thus, 

Of all who pass us in life's drear descent 

We grieve the most for those who luisht to die. 

During the composition of Count Julian Landor had 


bMO in cIoM coiTMpoiideiice with Soathey, «iid had mb- 
Bitltd lo him Um Burateript •■ il p iog n Med. H« had 
•i OM mommA a^artdaad the ohrkmsly impmetirnhfe 
id«a of gatting hit tngadj pat on the ftage by Kamble. 
This abukloiMd, ha offmd il to Longm a n a foe po Mi ca t io n . 
Thej dadiBad to {nint il aithar at thair own eoali^ or 
area, whan ha p ro p oae d thai mathod, at tha anthoc'a. 
WhataopoB Laador writaa io Sonthaj : " Wa haira kUalj 
had aold wialhar han^ and firaa. On raoaiTing tha 
bal latter of Mr. Longman I oommitt«d to the llamea my 
tngady of nrrauH <mi Oiuiiot with which I intended to 
Bvpriaa yon, and am laaohred thai aavar Tcna of mine 
•haU be hanallar eoaamiltad to anytiUb^ alaa. My lite, 
my earaar baa baao a very enziooa ooa. Too eannol 
iflu^pne how I feel rdiered at laying down ita burden, 
and abaadoning Ha tfaana of hnmilialiona. I fcadad I 
had al laal aeqniied the lighl tone of tngady, and waa 
treading down at heel the ahoea of AlftnL'* The reao- 
lolioo reeoidad with thia co mp oaa d and inaroeahla air 
iMlad BO ki«« than the eholar whieh had prarokadH; 
and thoo^ the play of FinramH ami Gmtio, all bat a few 
frngmanlii, had been inataavabty mcttftead, we ind Ckmmi 
JmKam wiUiin a few moalha oltead lo and aceap l ad by 
Mr. Mnnay, on Iba httrodnetioa ot Soolhey, and aetaaDy 
rnblkhed al the beginning of 181 S. 

Themmehonaa bnwgfal oviintha aama yearanolhar 
prodaelkm of I^mdoc^a of a MaDy diftnal ahaaelar, 
namely, a Com mt m l arff on Mtmsin <^ Jfr. /faoe. In tha 
biogi^y of Landor thia Toloma k of peeoliar inteMat 
It eotttaina hia Tiawa on man, book% and gofiimaiiH 
Mt fctth in tha manner thai waa moot Mtnal lo him, thai 
is iniswIlaBawly and without saqnanei^ in a pioae 
whieh hM aoM of tha JM^naKtiai aor wfipitiM of hk 


66 LANDOR. [chap. 

verse, but is at once condensed and lucid, weighty without 
emphasis, and stately without effort or inflation. 'jChe 
fulness of Landor's mind, the clearness and confidence of 
his decisions, the mixed dogmatism and urbanity of his 
manner, are nowhere more characteristically displayed. The 
text for his deliverances is furnished by Trotter's Memoirs 
of Fox, then lately published. His motives in writing are 
declared in the following words : — " I would represent his 
(Fox's) actions to his contemporaries as I believe they 
will appear to posterity. I would destroy the impression 
of the book before me, because I am firmly persuaded 
that its tendency would be pernicious. The author is an 
amiable man, so was the subject of his memoir. But of 
all the statesmen who have been conversant in the manage- 
ment of our affairs, durmg a reign the most disastrous 
in our annals, the example of Mr. Fox if followed up 
would be the most fatal to our interests and glory." Else- 
where he speaks of the sacrifices made during the prepa- 
ration of the book to appease the scruples of its publisher. 
We know from his letters that one of his schemes in those 
days was to render himself and other lovers of free speech 
independent of the publishers, by estabhshing a printing 
press of his own at Llanthony, " at a cost of 5000Z.," and 
"for the purpose, at much private loss, disquiet, and danger, 
of setting the pubKc mind more erect, and throwing the 
two factions into the dust." The Commentary as actually 
printed contains, first, a dedicatory address to the Presi- 
dent of the United States, deprecating the war then 
imminent, in consequence of the fiscal policy of Canning, 
between them and the mother country. In the course of 
this dedication we find Landor putting forward for the 
first time one of the fundamental articles of his creed, in the 
shape of the following classification of animated beings : — 


OwiHir, «r, whaX tnth» two ■rtioi, if I mmk catt 
two^ wkieh an •honi, not to tgnuaateb but to ait«dtk«r 
i»i»OMtiw hj Mto of nol— w aad alaagkiar. II jo« ttbk m 
I 4o, aad ftw HMW, aUowiaf ftr tlMdi||iMof thotr Mfxiitiw, 
gMn% tkbk aliln. jm wiD firidt the enalnw e# tb« 
Ahi%hlriBl» tiow pvtii int. bm who «^tko Ugk«t 
«f tiberigraM cMlinliai; naaadfy.BM vke fir* 

B0 QiflBBOCiMBB OK OttO B0OS Off flMlfflw flM8 OVB BOv V8f * 

to w^j tlMir rmoo fcr tbo pwaotioa of tb«r 
I ; Aad thirdly, tlM brvto erMtkm, wUek if wliifct alao 
to iMtmrj will, and whoM bapfiw thw dndir povwi «f 
wiwiiH (far WW tfcy Iw) b nadaqaito to y uiito TMn 
tkno eioMM, ia mj viow of tlM ■ ^ ^^^^«^ atoad ak tfaal <&•• 

Aftortha dadkation (blknra a ptafrea foUol aaamiad 
iaia tiU Ta Muiwk thoaa laapoBBblo for tiia p«* tit i flt> l and 
aOitaiy afi^ of FngJandi tariad hj obaamtioM on tlia 
ehametarof tha Fraadi and of thair raitt, tar Iha c bata a t a t 
of whidi aaa abora (p. 34), and by tha CoOowiqg iiia 
otatotfaal oQiboBty a Uttia laaa acicwataly wromjbt and 
balanwid than it would baaa in Laadoc^a latar pioae, in 
which tha alxingaiqr of tha penal lawa ^piaat tha poor ia 
ootttawtod with thaktthattwrtawtcf aBlataddiawwt 
lika Lend XahrflK lo^ Lnd Pri?7 8aal fer Seolkiid and 
I*iaaidant of tha Board of CobIvqI tot India — 

If aa aatetavto aalharat a 
witbbOTabalf-atarrW iafaat. alaaf laafc eav«Md wilh< 
•boall MMtoba •birt froaa a badga to paetaal it Aaa •mm- 
fabladialb, iba M eeadMBtd to dia^ That aba aam coald 
bava kaawa tha law, tbak aba aavar aoald bava aaaaatod to ito 
Miaity, araib bar aelbiaf ; that Aa waa pia t Bi d by tba cii« af 
b«r owa uftyibft tbak il was aet aMnly tha iaalifaliaa af 
waat, bat tba fcaaa «f iBii!|iliit Mtoiaw tba twj vaiaa of 

Ood tlMiiK tba I aliw of a b«Ma baiaf, of bar awa. 

tba caaM «f bar waajwini aad bar iiHiliiaiii^ af bar 

r a 

68 LANDOR. [chap. 

captivity and her chains : what are these in opposition to an 
act of parliament ? she dies. Look on the other side. A 
nobleman of most acute judgment, well versed in all the usages 
of his country, rich, powerful, commanding, with a sway more 
absolute and unresisted than any of its ancient monarchs, the 
whole kingdom in which he was a subject, with all its boroughs, 
and its shires and its courts and its universities, and in addition, 
as merely a fief, the empire of all India ; who possessed more 
lucrative patronage than all the crowned heads in Europe ; let 
this illustrious character, to whom so many men of rank 
looked up as their protector, and whom senators and statesmen 
acknowledged as their guide ; let this distinguished member of 
the British parliament break suddenly through the law which 
he himself had brought into the House for the conservation 
of our property, without necessity, without urgency, without 
temptation — and behold the consequence. 

The consequence is somewhat flat; and omitting 
Landor's account of Melville's acquittal and careless 
bearing, we may rememher that the most weighty and 
pointed of all his ei)igrams in verse is that which he 
directed against the same delinquent : — 

God's laws declare 

Thou shalt not swear 
By aught in heaven above or earth below. 

" Upon my honour ! " Melville cries. 

He swears, and lies. 
Does Melville then break God's consmandment ? No. 

Landor's preface further contains reflections on the utility 
and the lessons of history for statesmen, and on their neglect 
hy Pitt and Fox 3 and ends with the expression of a wish 
for the continuance of the present ministry in office, and 
an urgent plea in favour of Catholic emancipation. In 
the body of his book he takes extracts from Trotter's 
Memoirs as they come, and appends to each his own 

ro.3 comcKXTAKV ON '"'.- - --*: .n 

nflnioM. Liieimtara and (>w.u,^ i-^;«^UiU ;>,,... ' 

gmmJi, meeeed eftch olhar yiwiiwmowlyr Etn u 

Ludor bat to «7 of Ba^ tad kit poliey dnzii^ Um 

Fraaek ivrolntion:— " Borikfl^ the only BMmber of Fu>- 

amcnt whoM rwn wen «xtMisiTe| and whoM reading 

waa aU tamed to pcMtieal aceoonli waa mon violaDl than 

enn Loed QvenTiUa Ibr a diwlanition of hoetilHiae. Hia 

tmritalled eloqnenoe waa fiitel to oor g^kity ; it eOanead 

•or renown for joatiea and for wiadiNB, vndcnninad our 

nkoMl ta o at> e dtj, and inTaded ow dwneetia peaea.** 

Ilian fiiUowa a kmg djepamging critieiem of Spenaer, 

wboaa poaliy alwaje eaemad to Landor fantaatie^ nnreal, 

Cbaneer and Borne ; and then, after d i ae iual ya criU- 
dflna on tha creationa of Oaliban and Qydope^ on 
f ^^Mmm^^ iml flu thf Bp«wri«" itante. tmm t twncilnilnii 
of QeeroQiM gmvilj and pnee^ ** It ia better to leaTo 
off where r efla jti on nay reek than whoa paaeirm aeay ha 
axeitad ; aal tiia eoothing to taka the kei triew of politiee 
"^ramanongthaworiksofthaiaaagination. . . . Aneae^o 
.u thia iMBnar horn tha aaaea of poUtka and the dieeotd 
oi paitjp laaroe each eeneatfawe on tha heart aa are ax- 
|i e riww a d by tha i ll e int a i ae t ai l and eoher aan^ after aona 
pabKe aiaatii^, when ha has qoittad tha e wardad and 
noiay loom, tha crooked and narrow etreati^ tha hiane 
and hoaai of tha ahbK poor and Mi, and antan hia 
own groonda again, and mate hia own kaily at tha 
ffUo." Iflunadiatahr after iriiieh T ffw**"* tone 
egain to tha ehaige in a ftaal, 
Tnie reaMnEahle o ulp oa uu i g of 
^la, and ndJjf etoiad aund wae deetinad to haTe no 
nflnenaa and fcw leaden. lika tha mmnuiim, thw^ 
m dafaaaee lo a iliffaiaiil order of eaaeoBiaiBliea. il 

70 ■ LANDOE. [chap. 

seems to have been recalled almost as soon as it was pub- 
lished, and the only copy known to exist is one formetly 
in the possession of Southey, and now in that of Lord 

Besides his two tragedies, Count Julian and the lost 
Ferranti and Giulio, Landor wrote during the latter part 
of this Llanthony period, a comedy called the Charitahle 
Doivager, the proceeds of which he destined for the relief 
of an old acquaintance in Spain, for whose hospitality he 
had good reason to be grateful when he found himself 
prevented from entering Bilbao. The piece was, however, 
neither produced nor even printed, and considering the 
quality of Landor's later efforts in the comic vein, its loss 
is probably not to be regretted. Landor had in these 
days been also at work at what he in his heart cared 
for most of all, his Idyllia and other poems in Latin ; 
which Valpy, he writes, " the greatest of all coxcombs," 
very much wished to publish, but which he preferred to 
print on his own account' at Oxford, the proceeds, if any, 
to be distributed among the distressed poor of Leipzig. 

This was towards the close of 1813. In the meantime 
Landor's magnificent projects as a landlord had been 
crumbling under his hands. Less than four years had 
brought his affairs to such a pass as utterly to disgust 
him with Llanthony, Wales, and the Welsh. There Avas 
scarcely one of his undertakings but had proved abortive. 
There was scarcely a public authority of his district 
against whom he had not a grievance, or a neighbour, 
high or low, with whom he had not come into collision, 
or a tenant or labourer on his estate who had not turned 
against him. The origin of these troubles sprang almost 
always either from Landor's headlong generosity, or else 
from his impracticable punctiliousness. He had a genius 

uk] SPAIN. n 

ht Um ugndidoQi Tutow, and thoM which neoil agaioii 
tMr poMBMor. Of hk >nnHii^ inll% prid* tad u«w, 
prid* ooMlMitly MKNd Um that h« ww no* m oHmt 
■MBf UHW •■ ooMtentlT mnted Um bahaTioor of othaf 
MM whan ti Ml balow the alaiidaid of hia own. He 
woold insat on aoDtoliM aMisil BoMyi isJM^Iaa in all 
withiriMa kacMM 1m aiwlaaly and whan hawaa vad»- 
oamd woold flame into Bh a dam a nU una mge againal tha 
asfanlk idmliHncpaaaadillotaiBto asoimitiaiL and danom^ 
fa iga id aaai riiiB tohwFathamahaaliaad a oeoi du i ^ . Thna 
ha mada bad woroa^ and bj hia ktflj, inq^ateooi^ nnwiaa 
w>y% tonad tha whola oo«ptr]r<«d« into a hoalilB eaaqt 
li k Inm tbH hnk and tha chasaelan of thoaa with whom 
halMdtodaalwimmMhitidMlhim. Hii Imt iJiaaanlMnt- 

ailhwity. Ha wwta to tha biihop of hk dioeaaa^ aikiiV 
j w i ml m i nn to nataa ft* aarviea a part of TJanthony 
piiofy. Hia int lattar weaifad no anawat. Hanpaated 
hia wqawl in a maomd, in tha eooaa <^ whidi ha i»> 
maikad, *'God ahma ia gnal anom^ lor ma to aak aay* 
thii« af Iwiaaf to wUah than eama aa aaswar ooUly 
hia piopoaal, bol aajiag that an ad of pariia- 
maddba rnqoimd baCoca H aodd ba laiiiail o«l; 
Landof^ who had kMy had anoi«|i of acta of 
it» allowed tha matim to drapw At tha Mon- 
ia 181S ha waa on tha pand yuj. 
Iha wmbwa of that body harii^ baan in tha wmmI 
focmal Imma a4j«ad hj tha Jwdga to ky bafaa him 
ah a l a n a i a Tk faiwM Hiaj poaamaad of Me^f oommitlad ia 
tha aoHlgr, what mm* oar w>bla Bomaa do bi* lako tha 
ai\iimtiim Htarily, ami ia rlrfaam of aD ti^a dalim 
with hk owB knA to tha jadfa a wiittM aaamiBite of 
filoay a«riaal aa iitiwntki maaal of tha 

72 LANDOR. [chap. 

an attorney and surveyor of taxes ; coupled mth a com- 
plaint against his brother jurors for neglect of duty 'in 
refusing to inquire into the case. The judge took no 
notice of the communication, and Landor, having natu- 
rally gained nothing by his action except the resentful or 
contemptuous shrugs of his fellow-jurors, closed the incident 
with a second letter of polite sarcasm, in which he wrote, "I 
acknowledge my error, and must atone for my presumption. 
But I really thought your lordship was in earnest, seeing 
you, as I did, in the robes of justice, and hearing you 
speak in the name and with the authority of the laws," 
About the same time, partly on the suggestion of the one 
or two gentlemen of the neighbourhood who had culture 
and character enough to be his friends, Landor applied to 
the Duke of Beaufort, the lord lieutenant, to be put on 
the commission of the peace of the county. There was 
no resident magistrate within ten miles of Llanthony, 
and yet his application was refused. Partly his politics, 
partly the fact that a brother of the Duke's had been 
foreman of the grand jury at the recent assize, explain the 
refusal. Landor thereupon wrote a temperate letter to the 
Lord Chancellor (Eldon), pointing out the necessity of a 
magistrate being appointed for his neighbourhood; and 
when he received no answer, followed it up by another, 
haughtier, but not less calm and measured, in which he 
describes his qualifications and his pursuits, and contrasts 
them in a strain of grave irony with those usually thought 
sufficient for a public servant : " I never now wiU accept, 
my lord, anything whatever that can be given by ministers 
or by chancellors, not even the dignity of a county justice, 
the only honoxir or office I ever have solicited." 

Landor's worst troubles at Llanthony did not, however, 
proceed from men in high station, but from his own tenants 

m.] SPAIN. 71 

•ad kboonn. Ha ftmad the W«lih ywilij drazlMli, 

tatikian, tad warn fioniiiA **U dnakmntm, idkatw^ 

— »*^««*i and nrwogb am the prineqial diamlatialka of 

Um amfa atatc^ iriiaft natioii— I wOl ad my in Earop^ 

bot ia thawotU-Ha ao aagaksly tellooad wiUi thaaa aa 

thaWaUir Aad^Bia,**IlM«aithaiMitiiBaBOMaor 

haiMa baiagi ao tolany Tila aad worthlaaa aa tha Wakh." 

Tha FkaDeh UMOMalTaa aaamad ao kxigar odiooa iaeoan- 

paaaoa. Thair gOftanuMal Laador liad ooaa to lagaid 

aa aft aay ala aMta attdaBi aad baHar adiiiiiiialamt thaa 

ooi* ; aad after three jtmnf ezpariaaea of the iagmftH ai t i^ 

thiiftlawBiw, aad kwkaaaeaa ol tha people foaad aboal 

hin, vatad him aliaady half datenaiaad togoaadaadce 

hit hoBM ia Fraace. Bot thtaga woold proliahly aerer 

ha^e realty eoma fto that paa had it aoi bean for the md- 

I of aa £aflUdi taaaafti to iHwoi Leader had hwked 

of all Cor the haptoffeaMOt of hit [ mipe Kj r. Thia 

eae Be t h a ai, whoae faailj tree kaowa, aad one of 

hie Mdn highly lata— iil, by both Lamb aad Soathej. 

had aaad SoathqrV aaae to iatoodaee hiaiaitf to 

aa a tMaai^aad had ba«i aeeepled,he aad hie 

fiuailj, with open anai ia innnainaaBBB. Lndor ranted 

him lot one aad than nolhar of hk beat temt oa taoaa 

of maklam Umalitj, ailhomh ha kMw BOlhii« of i^ri- 

ealtan^ aad hie pteriooa anaarhad been that^intofan 

ai^ar ia a oehoolv aad tibenof a petty oAear on board an 

Emi ladia Compeay'e ahip. Be ia tha aame arhom 

Lamb had in hia atiad whan, yean al Ui w aid a, he wrote 

to Laador, **I kaew aU yoar WalA ann oy a aBaM^ the 

&'•. I kaew a q;aaitar of a mib of tham. 

brathaia aad aistean aiatim^ aa they uipaar to 

me ia ■iwy. Ihma waa om of tham that load to ix 

hia long lap «• ajtedar and tall a atoiyof a 

74 LANDOE. [chap. 

every night, endless, immortal. How have I grudged the 
salt-sea ravener not having had his gorge of him." Tliis 
unconscionable tenant not only did nothing for the land, 
but misconducted himself scandalously, holding open 
house for his brothers and his sisters, his father and his 
father's friends, associating in the ale-houses with the 
scum of the neighbourhood, neglecting, and by-and-by 
refusing, to pay his rent, and when at last Landor 
lost patience, leaguing himself with other defaulting 
tenants, and with every malicious attorney and every 
thievish idler in the country side, to make his land- 
lord's existence intolerable. Landor's rents were with- 
held, his game poached, his plantations damaged, his 
timber stolen, his character maligned, and even his life 
threatened. He was like a lion baited by curs. He was 
plunged up to the neck in law-suits. In the actions and 
counter-actions that were coming up for trial continually 
between himself and his tenants and neighbours, the 
local courts and juries were generally adverse to him, 
the local attorneys insolent. One of these on some 
unusual provocation Landor beat. " I treated him as 
he deserved. He brought a criminal action against me." 
In the case of a London counsel employed against 
him, Mr. (afterwards Judge) Taunton, Landor adopted a 
more innocuous, if to himself at least as gratifying, 
mode of revenge. " I would not encounter the radeness 
I experienced from this Taunton, to save all the property 
I possess. I have, however, chastised him in my Latin 
verses now in the press." With reference to the criminal 
action pending on the part of the other and physically 
smarting man of law, he writes, *' I shall be cited to take 
my trial at Monmouth; and as I certainly shall not 
appear I shall be outlawed." In the meantime, his prin- 

in.] 8PAI5. ;• 

dpai rait, lur Um i mettm j of nmdf two thowwikl pooadt 
dw boa BsUmb, kid ban wimMiftil, and hk ekim had 
bwB dlowwi by Um Court of ExehoqiMr to the bd 
flathii«. fiat it WM too kto. Rain ilmd him in the 
free. He bed miik owr wf«Blj tfwwmnd pooadt vpoa 
the LUnthooy |«uy B itj ! in five jeen, tad be bed no nedy 
aM»ey to meet the intarait doe <Hfc e aortgige. Tbara 
woe other eqnelly lu g w t efadmn The puiuni of theea^ 
togetheririth the ptofaeble leeolte of hie niolntion not to 
appear to aaevOT the eboge aguaift him eilfoamoalh, 

iWlMiii 1 bin^ in May, 1814, to tetnat to the Coati- 

Hie penonal piopnty, both in Walee and al fiath, 
aold. The ealale of Lkathony wm taken by 
oat oC his haada,and Teefead in thoee ci 
The hlMbaige in fiivoar of hie mother entittad h«; 
fottBMlaly, Id the pooitkm of fini endUor. She bod an 
eiedlaat tiknt for bwiinwai, aa had one et keet of her 
jiim^M aoM^ tnd IJanth(Mqr> ondar the maMfpoMUt of 
ita new Iraaloei^ aoon prored able to yiaU a baadaooM 
enooijh pr o riafcm far Laadot^ maintaMBee aflar all 
chaigaa npoo it bad bean aataiAed. Hie half -boilt maa- 
rfoa vaa poUad down, and iia immiiia oa|y eodat to^y 
ia the gviae of a bey-ehed ; while ia the ai^|oiaii« 
di]^ the atmam ia all bat dried ap, and aOaat* w if ila 
NaiMl bad fled with her marter, whik all the raet ere 
TocaL The ftngrnkj ami bakagi to laadoi'a larriTii^ 
eon. Hk roeda, and a good port of bk pkal a tk a a, alill 
eziat to bear witaam to the aaeigy of hie yeaa of oeeo- 
patka, aad the baootiftil Wekh TaUej will be for ever 
aeaoekkd with bk fomei 

Lmdor lent to Sovthay ttom Woymoath oo the iTth 
of May, 1814, a ktlar dqeelad aad almoBt daapmaH 
althoogb wiiHea with bk wifolHwg dignity of maaaoi^ ia 

76 LANDOE. [cH. in. 

which he speaks of his future as follows : " I go to-morrow 
to St. Malo. In what part of France I shall end my days 
I know not ; but there I shall end them, and God grant 
that I may end them speedily, and so as to leave as little 

sorrow as possible to my friends My wife follows 

when I have found a place fit for her reception. Adieu." 
But the cap of Landor's bitterness was not yet full. He 
sailed, in fact, not to St. Malo, but to Jersey, and was 
there joined by his wife and her young sister. Mrs. 
Landor disliked the plan of going to live in France, while 
Landor, on his part, was absolutely bent upon it. He 
desired that the question of changing their destination 
might not again be raised. She would not suffer the 
question to drop. Arguing one evening with more than 
usual petulance, she taunted him before her sister with 
their disparity of years. His pride took sudden fire ; he 
rose at four the next morning, crossed the island on foot, 
and before noon was under weigh for the coast of France, 
in an oyster-boat, alone. 

rHArrr.R iv. 

ini. : . V— lUTLLlA HBKMC*. 

^ -I Landoi'* ouwtr 

maeh fatOily M 

1 ami luAy pufpoMS had bean 

-..- ' ""It flithfti* in Um pnetiad ct 

in t: iia pnctiMl pot ollili h« 

• ulad. Tba wiatini 

. „__^^ .-ytonein wliieliataMMi 

all kia idaala w«ra ntanad. Baal npon walking in tba 
pilba of amnity, ha iMd iwUialaM tooddm thoaa of 
PRmdly anelii^ is kit rtidM^ rfinla^ 
) M4)»ahaTioiif^ ha had baas iBTohrad in %M«iaiow 
withthabaMk Bon lo waahh, and a«f« to 
aiqploy il for tha ptblie good, ha had laapad Bolhi^ b«i 
flaaiwHw aad iliaiiM— f TmAOj oU^mbooi'to. 
warda vooaan, ha had Jaal tnaad hia hack faiaagwivott 
hi* yowg wiftu Hailhar in tha olhar apkava of aaa'a 
aettrily, tha irtiniatwl aad iin^arifo aphvib vUeh 
to hia «aa in tanrth tha man ml mi a^Oirii«€rtha 
two, hadLawkraayaldoMhhMalf M^thiiV lika foU 
Jiatieai ^Datoiity, if kki caaav kad aadad hon^ voild 
iwohakty kava jgiMwail kia viilingi^ or kaiva wtmt^ 
bawd thai ai nwat aa <ha ftog— laiy and IwKgmh d k prO' 

78 LANDOR. [chap. 

ducts of a powerful spirit that had passed away without 
having left any adequate memorial. Several years liad 
still to elapse before Landor addressed himseK to that 
which was destined to be his great and vital task in 
literature, the writing of the Imaginary Conversations. 
His life uutU then continued to be unsettled, and his 
efforts uncertainly directed. 

He was not long in recovering from the effect of the 
misfortunes narrated in the last chapter. The relief of 
Latin verses came to the aid of his natural elasticity ; and 
at Tours, whither he made his way from the coast of 
Brittany, we find him within a week or two busy upon 
the composition of a mythologic poem in that language, 
Ulysses in Argiripa, in the course of which the personages 
of some of his Welsh tormentors — Betham and his sister, 
and an Abergavenny attorney named GabeU — are ingeniously 
introduced and pilloried.^ Of his quarrel with his wife he 
writes perfectly like a gentleman, doing justice to her 
contentment and moderation during the trying experiences 
of their life at Llanthony, proposing to hand over to her 
aU his remaining fortune, reserving only 160/. a year for 
himself ; but adding that every kind and tender sentiment 
towards her is rooted up from his heart for ever. When, 
however, he hears after a whUe that she has suffered no less 
than himself, and been very ill since their dispute, the 
news banishes all traces of resentment from his mind, and 
he writes at once " to comfort and console her." The result 
was for the time being a fuU reconciliation ; and early in 
1815 Mrs Landor joined her husband at Tours. In the 
intervening months he had been living there alone, busy- 
ing himself with his reading and his Latin verses ; buying 
his own provisions in the market, and making himself 
^ Ulysses in Argiripa, lib. iii., VT. 197 — 209. 

IT.] TOCBflL 19 

:-''■ -^g tha naikat mtmm ty bit gwiul, 

-^ «i Unm tho, ftnafi to aij, 
ioiudly rMMTiag the nril of 

i^ — . ^.. Fnglkh nmAmfa or ' 

Unwlbrnt ivatoM^tBc 

ol ViBHMii Ha: nittod to lipai iato » 

frw^iUyp tHxu- looMt and noil Ikni- 

fal of Laadoi'o life. Han bnoghl to ne him at this time 
Mr., ^torwndi 8if Bodoridt, MwAkwi, in addwrtic 
to kia old aga Lmdor thm iiliaaantly naiBa tba 

Upon lam ouik 
or Loir* tboa oMMol to ao. braofto bj Bar*. 
TV wit^ Md wai ■ toartort, ptariag thwgfc 
TaaA wktsy (brmb wfeoaa bnad tow aMMoa 
ftato ahaakar «f«r akaaribv t ttara I dwall, 
TW lu aa M mj g a n il, tha bfada mjj 

▲llor Um orapa of Kapolaoa from Elba tbo fi^lkh 
eokmy at Toon broke ap inaUnn ; but Landor on bia part 
vioto to C^TBol^ mfiag limt h* pnpOMd to Momto ; n«iv«d 

oli^«l mMkalad at Toui tbioi^ljhoat the Hoadrad Daya. 
Ahm tba nilaalimilia ol Watorioo ba oaa digr aaw dia- 
mooBtiiatbaoontyvdoftha pnfeet% bovo, ft trnvaOar 
ta wbom ba wwwgnimd, or at laaat alvaja allarwaida 
tiMt ba bftd ww^rimd, tba fn^itm 

Landor. Hia wifi aad bia btotbar Bobart vara now 
witb bim. Tba kttar bad a atrooc daaira to nnt 
luly ; T andor inriatod tbd tbqr aboold tmval 
and in tba momb of Saptowbar, 1816^ "ate 
witb bii landlady of tba 

80 LANDOR. [chap. 

they set off accordingly. They posted through France to 
Savoy, along a route beset on the right hand by tiie 
French forces, and on the left by the German army of 
occupation. An account of their journey is preserved in 
the letters written by Eobert Landor to his mother, letters 
which betoken some measure both of chivalrous prejudice 
in favour of the pretty, reconciled, and now, as it would 
appear, somewhat ostentatiously meek and submissive 
sister-in-law, and of brotherly impatience with Walter's 
moods and caprices. "When the travellers had made their 
way as far as Savoy Landor found himself enchanted with 
the scenery of that province, and for a moment thought of 
fixing his abode at Chambery, but finally decided to push on 
into Italy. Before the end of the year he had amved with 
his wife at Como, where he found himself disappointed and 
discontented at first, but where after a time he determined 
to settle down. 

At Como Landor and his wife continued to live for 
the next three years. Before the summer of the third 
a boy was born to them, their first child, whom Landor 
christened Arnold Savage, after that Speaker of the House 
of Commons whom he conceived to be an ancestor of his 
own by the mother's side ; other children, a girl and two 
more boys, followed within a few years. Landor delighted 
in the ways and company of children, and is the author 
of some of the most beautifid of all sayings about them. 
His own, as long as they were of tender age, were a source 
of extreme happiness to him ; and their presence had 
for some years the effect of bringing peace at any rate, 
although no real concord, into his home relations. For 
the rest, in his life at Como as in his life at Llan- 
thonj^, and indeed at all times, Landor was never so 
much taken up by anything as by his own reflexions, 

tv.] coxo. n 

and DO eo apmy was m real to him m thil with 
which he iiMBitfofi in inngiinHmi daring hb dailj 
wslhi aad atuMty iMnfaji In tho w»j of ptMliMl ood- 
U«l with Btn d«A^ tho pariod while he lired ak Coim 
h«n is not mnch to talL Among his few TialoBi fton 
«bnnd WM «*ihe kunad and aodeak Bakkarf aadhe 
•peaks of the **cahB and philoaoidiica] Sinmi* aa hia 
aoai fraqoent wwapaafcrn aoMOg the natiTsa of the fdaee. 
Ha had alaoaone neqiMinhmoa in 1817 with aa EaglMh- 
■MB than nMmi mm the hdu^ 8ir Chadaa Wolaalay, 
aftarwaida a on a p i nwi w a aa one of the laadanof the Bir- 
■.{.■jk^— itiiiii ■grt^Hftw Thef wet* both witaeaaaa to 
the wandahwa Ufa lad hj the Frineeaa of Walee in the 
▼ilia OB the lake where die waa than laadiag ; sad Laador 
wm,aibBti^md hiBMatf to ba^ anl^^to aoaMiaaoltor 
aawiynea liram thoae of her aaite. ''Thia alooe»» ha 
wiota three jaas afl atw iJi hi hia ^irahoaa waj, when 
the aaaa Gu CkaAm WoMaj hmight forwnd Ua aasM 
aa that of one ta a poMtkn to give Tahiahle e ?idanaa on 
her tiH " thii aiMM^ vhkh aOghl Miste ad kaap alive 
the BMiel aaliva laaaBtBMBA ia olhan^ woold i^oaa ataraal 
ailaaea oa BML* Of theae aad other WiHiiia laador wrote 
ftafBWtly to Soolh^, whom ha alao ka|4 n^pliad with 
Its of hooka, eoOaelad aUal^ ia the eoaoa of ax- 
I to Milan. Oa hia owa aeeooat lAodor waa aerer 
maah of a book aoilaelai^ or Hlhflrha aavw kepi BMuiy of 
iha books ha boi«M» hal aaiAMd, Midilitail. aad thoa 
gsTe them away. It waa alwaya a awttar of laaaaik how 
d k pa o po rti o M ata waa the astnt of his libiaiy to that of 
hfeiaadiiV. Ia the aauMr of 1817 Uadariaeaivad a 
Tia^ at Coaw htm Seothay ia panoa " WaQ do I 
TwaiaMbar," ha aakaa Soothay aij ia oaa of hk aaftaa- 
i«Mit / aiii fft iaiy C bmm mtw m t, * well do I iiwalw oar 


82 LANDOR. [chap. 

long conversations in the silent and solitary cliiirch of 
Sant' Abondio (surely the coolest spot in Italy), and tiow 
often I turned back my head toward the open door, fearing 
lest some pious passer-by, or some more distant one in 
the wood above, pursuing the pathway that leads to the 
tower of Luitprand, should hear the roof echo vnth. your 
laughter at the stories you had collected about the 
brotherhood and sisterhood of the place." 

But Southey's spirits were on this occasion not what 
they had been in the old Llanthony days. He had lost 
his son Herbert, the darling of his heart, twelve months 
before, and had since suffered extreme vexation from the 
attacks and the rebuffs which he had undergone in con- 
nexion with the piratical publication of his Wat Tyler. 

Grief had swept over him ; days darken'd round : 
Bellagio, Valintelvi, smiled in vain. 
And Monte Rosa from Helvetia far 
Advanced to meet us, mild in majesty 
Above the glittering crests of giant sons 
Station'd around ... in vain too ! all in vain. 

Lander's stay at Como was brought to a characteristic 
termination in the autumn of 1818. An Italian poet, 
Monti, had written some disparaging verses against 
England. Landor instantly retorted with his old school- 
boy weapons, and printed some opprobrious Latin verses 
on Monti, who summoned him before the local courts on 
a charge of libel. Thereupon he wrote to threaten the 
magistrate with a thrashing. For this he was ordered to 
quit the country. The time allowed him expired on the 
19th of September. "I remained a week longer, rather 
washing to be sent for to Milan." 'So such result ensuing, 
he retreated in a stately manner on the 28th, discharging 
f/^j^ more Latin verses as he went, this time against the Aus- 

PISA. n 

tnao vorernor, Cooal SliMolda Hm imxI two bmhUm 
1m ipaal ui • tOIa raidwl horn tk* Manban FdkT»etBi, 
•i Albany nau- Gaooa. Bafim IIm doaa of Iha yaaf ba 
had gona on with him kaJij to Piaa. 

At Pka, with tlia aaeaptian of <nm maamm, tha fini 
aftar hit amTal, whieh ba ipanl aft Piatok, Laador la- 
laaiitwl oatU .SBptwhat, 18S1. II ia a aagQlar awaiiaaft 
in tha bJatory of tha ftiMraa littla I^Moaa atty, that it 
•hovhl haf« baiA ahoaM bf thna of tha aoat iBiiiteioiM 
ofsadMrnEi^iMbaMB far thoir aboda alaoil aft tha aasM 
tiw. ShaUay aatablidiad hiiarff thata in Jaaaaiy, 1820^ 
» jaar lal« thaa Luidac; Bjron ia Oetobat^ 1831, a 
month aftar Laador had lift With naithar of thaia 
brothar poala had Laador any paraonal aoquaintaaoa. 
Tha aunnft abadan ^HBift aiMUay^ 
in aonasioB with tha tB^ie iana of fak Isft 
had ban lapaatad to Laador by MadrintnA iaafona 
whieh pvavanlad him from walriag tha yo«agar poaft'a 
aaqnaiBiaae% or avaa **'*«y*'"g it whia ift wm 
whila thiy w«a both at Piaa. Thk Laador 
btttarfy wffKt ad. Ha had tha hoartiaaft admimiMm fer 
Shallay'a poatry, and kaiaal whan it waa too lafta fta 
admim hit nhaiaalii ao Itok Wa aaaaoft doohft thaft tha 
two wooU hava aadmlood aaah olhw if thqr Ittd mal» 
and that baftwaan Landor, tha kftiaaft and aioaft mamiTa 
•piiit of hia ^^ aad Shalky, tba moaft bmnlitel and 
aideat, thaet wovhl haia ipnag «p mlatiOM Ml of 
yl iat iui for thmmaltai and of iataraaft for porlaiity. 
For Byron, m tha othw haad, Laador hid Uttb ad. 
miialka aad l«a aaftram. Ha had foaa oal of hia 
wm J to aToid mutiiig htm oaaa ia BaglHid. Naithar it 
it oettaia thaft pmaoaal ialanoona woaU havahdto aa 
imprmrtd ladwrtaiidian baftvaaa thM. Liador^ fca- 

o t 

84 LANDOR. [chap. 

tidious breeding might easily have taken umbrage at the 
strain of vulgarity there was in Byron ; his pride at* the 
other's trick of assumption ; his sincerity at the other's 
affectations ; especially if Byron had chosen to show, as he 
often did show with new acquaintances, his worst side 
first. And circumstances soon arose which would have 
made friendly intercourse between them harder than ever. 
But before coming to these, it is necessary to fix in our 
minds the true nature of Landor's position, intellectual 
and personal, towards the two opposite parties into which 
the chief creative forces of English literature were at this 
time divided. One of these was a party of conservation 
and conformity, the other of expansion and revolt. To 
the conservative camp belonged the converted Jacobins 
Wordsworth, Southey, and Coleridge, and, starting from a 
different point of departure, Scott; while the men of 
revolution were first of all Byron, now in the full blaze of 
his notoriety and his fame, and Shelley, whose name and 
writings were still comparatively unknown. The work 
of all creative spirits tends in the long-run towards ex- 
pansion ; towards the enrichment of human Kves and the 
enlargement of human ideals. Wordsworth by his reve- 
lation of the living affinities between man and nature, and 
of the dignity of simple joys and passions, Coleridge by 
introducing into the inert mass of English orthodoxy and 
literalism the leaven of German transcendental speculation, 
Scott by kindling the dormant sympathy of the modern 
mind with past ages, lives, and customs, were perhaps each 
in his way doing as much to enrich the lives and enlarge 
the ideas of men as either Shelley, with his auroral visions 
of an emancipated future for the race, or Byron with his 
dazzling illustration of the principle of rebellion in his own 
person. But so far as concerns the religious, political, 

!* FISA. W 

and K»dal fotmi MOfmuidtag tlMB, tht emlnpt ■piriti, 

with Um flzetptaoii of • ftv who, Uk« KMti^ fluid apart, 

cad dmfHy nng tht bmmI lia«tiiarii^ tUnp," dirids 

Ih—dfii, like oUmt smo, into two potiM, ona itaiag 

Botki^ kaanly but Iha good, aad the othar nothing kaanly 

kit the evil, in what ia,— <me faaxing all, and the other 

iMiniMt all, frooa ahaMai The natual poaitiott of Laador 

waa aidwaj batwean the two. On the ooa band, ha waa 

oeapable of aneh parochial roatieity and nanowneaa aa 

maricad the jwdgmanti of Wovdawocth ia Mattaa Ijiag 

oalridatha peeoUar Idadliag powtr of hia gaoina ; or of 

aadi Yagne, n iii t a nhji iiial raooaciKatliMM batwaan the 

axMli^ and the ideal m eoalMilad ColMidge; ot of 

SoallMT'a bliad aati^aBini to ehaB«a; orof Seotfa n>> 

mawtie partiality for fcndal and kia^ fioma and naagaa. 

Rat OB the other head Laador aaw hoiMa aatoa^ aoi 

a tha rthiaaal, ^ tiff ^ r ^it^, t ridft w in t aaniblaiini wUeh 

it boia to tha iai^iMtinn of ShaDaj, bal in ili paartieal 

attribataa of iaah aad blood, aad hia wakhwoidi bj ao 

maaaa iadadadfUka tboea of the jovnger pool, tha Qaivaiaal 

JadigMBiH^iiBliBa of an handilaiy baliafc aad baMh^aa 

ingalhar Vaithar did Ladoa^ ia aboi^ Bjna'a bUnd 

of poKtaeal tjxaaiqr and ooolaBipt fer aoatialioaal j«dg> 

■aaai^ lanvga ta apjiBUig Bsa JijfjRUini< 

or ejaie lanlaaMaai^ bat jqpaald aad 

wMi really raepeelabla ia laapaetabiiity, aad laaiwtainad 

inriolale hia aatfapM priaaip la of daooiai araa ia ra> 

iialHaa. Ia afila of tha twbriat laimtHiwi ha 

f>7 hia TarioBB enlliainna with anthotity, Laador 

him ee lf, teaiahiiowBwoad%aa " ladt ea H y a 

iaev«i7thi^«BafaL* lathaMlteofnligioMbaliaf omI 

pmetke ha ia aoMaoaly apokaa of aa a p^n, bat hia habili 

ofthoaghtwwatalharw^ aw a o w a di ya fwd poat. 

86 LANDOR. [chap. 

tive ; that is to say, he held the ultimate mysteries of the 
universe insoluble either by theology or philosophy, and 
estimated creeds and doctrines simply according to their 
effect on human happiness. 

Divinity is little worth having, much less paying for, un- 
less she teaches humanity. The use o£ religion on earth is to 
inculcate the moral law; in other words, in the words of Jesus 
Christ, to love our neighbour as ourselves. 

And again, in setting practical over doctrinal religion : — 

Christianity, as I understand it, lies not in belief but in 
action. That servant is a good servant who obeys the just 
orders of his master ; not he who repeats his words, measures 
his stature, or traces his pedigree. 

Accepting Christianity in this sense, Landor was never 
tired of enforcing the contrast between the practical re- 
ligion of the gospels and the official and doctrinal religion 
of priests and kings. In like manner as regards philosophy ; 
for abstract and metaphysical speculations he had no 
sympathy, scarcely even any toleration. 

The business of philosophy is to examine and estimate all 
those things which come within the cognizance of the under- 
standing. Speculations on any that lie beyond are only pleasant 
dreams, leaving the mind to the lassitude of disappointment. 
They are easier than geometry and dialectics ; they are easier 
than the efforts of a well-regulated imagination in the structiu-e 
of a poem. 

To the same purport, Diogenes is made to reply to Plato : — 

I meddle not at present with infinity or eternity ; when I 
can comprehend them, I will talk about them. You meta- 
physicians kill the flower-bearing and fruit-bearing glebe with 
delving, and turning over, and sifting, and never bring up any 
solid and malleable mass from the dark profundity in which 

rrO PISA. 97 

7M kboor. 1W iatolhBtiil vofU. like Um yfc yriml , b m- 
■ppBmhb to pnil aad iMifhh of cvltiTstioo • littb way 

NiitlMr oottU I^ndor admit thai phtkw^y em an 
tiM ann aboradaiaad, thai m phfloiophy daaliiig with 
thafceli of lifi aad «c|NriBBea, eoold be p i e ttobly par- 
ooed apart from dinelly pnetical i M u ea. Huma waliue, 
and not abataei trath, iboald be ita aim. 

Has ia pUkMfliy, lo aaka laoMte tUags taagit h . eommoa 
thiay ■rtmaiwiy awlUt •wMthif irt—rinly eaamw, aad 
lo Imvo the ImI ■iriiiiij ibr the ImL . . . . TVvth ia 
■ei THnaeUy the wn and eltimate el|^ of pbileaephy ; 
aktrath amhr at the mmm ef 

la pt^tiee Landor waa by no meaaa the mem rebd 
wUeh a myiag of Cariyle'a, repeated by 
taadad to lepmaeafc him. He waa indeed the 
friawl of Ubarty, iimlaiBliHilii^ by liberty the ri^ of 
evevy hnmm being "to e^|oy hia raamm §ot we pramo- 
tioaol hk beppfaem;" and tiM moel oiliiii^ enemy of 
all focme of deapoliam, oaarpalioB, pma e eatfcm , or eotnp> 
tioo which in UariewinlmfHedwilh thai light Beyond 
thM» he WM teftmn baii« hi any gnaml aoMe a poBlfaal 
innofalor or kveOar. With demoemey he had no aym- 
palhy» nprding thai m^^erity «f aU mnka iHMm he 
•'the ^a^ar * aa of JaJnitaly hm impm t Miee in a 
than ill two or three 0Mft man. "Amoh," 
heaay%**ii nolwoithamas.'' Aeeottingly, he 
great beUerer in popnhw aidtaga^andwonldonno i 
oondaaaandto paaoaal OMUacit irilh Jta piDciimn and hi- 
■tiimania He prided Umaalf « 
of the volm whiah he poaaaaaed in fear 
a dab^ or been preaanft al a polilieal maeliag. Bifoln- 

88 LANDOR. [chap. 

tionist as he was in regard to the despotic govemmentp of 
the continent, convinced as he always continued to be of 
the schoolboy doctrine of the virtue of tyrannicide, he 
advocated no very sweeping reforms in the politics of his 
native country. He would "change little, but correct 
much." He believed greatly in the high qualities of his 
own order, the untitled gentry of England, and was fond of 
scheming such a reform of the peerage as should convert 
that body from a more or less corrupt and degenerate 
oligarchy into a genuine aristocracy of worth and talent. 
He was, as we have seen, a great denouncer of what he 
thought the trucklings, derogations, and quackeries of 
ordinary political practice and partisanship ; but his chief 
practical exhortations were against wars of conquest and 
annexation ; against alliance with the despotic powers 
for the suppression of insurgent nationalities ; against 
the over-endowment of ecclesiastical dignitaries; in 
favour of the removal of Catholic disabilities ; in favour 
of factory acts, of the mitigation of the penal laws, 
and of ecclesiastical and agrarian legislation for the relief 
of the Irish. 

If Landor by his general opinions thus stood midway 
between the conservative and revolutionary groups of his 
contemporaries, we have seen already on which side of the 
two liis literary sympathies were engaged. He belonged 
to tlie generation of Wordsworth, Coleridge, Southey, and 
Charles Lamb, and had grown up in admiration of 
the writings of the so-called Lake school for years 
before their light was dimmed by the younger star of 
Byron. At the same time, Landor was essentially the 
reverse of a partisan ; his literary judgments were per- 
fectly open, and he was nobly eager to acknowledge merit 
whenever he could perceive it. If he can be charged with 

iv.] MBA. m 

paitMuithip in any inatannw, it is in thai ol SootlMy, 
wboM 1m placed m a poal not only fiv abov* kit yovog 
aal^ooM* Byron, but abofva Wotdnraclh ako. For tUt 
mi-Hlrf, Laadoc'a k^ and datvied friendalup b on- 
dwAladly in part wapoMibla Aa bafewwn SooUmj and 
'Bftm, hamtnrm, w bhmI vaaMmbat tlMt tha wnwIlaiiMBa 
of tlM oiM and tba finlta of Uie oIlMr warn pndaaly oTtka 
Idad Mool wlanlatad to impnaa Laodor. Ha looked in 
tUmlna imt of all to tka ta^nkal poinU oC fofm and 
Sootkey wao<ma of tka aonndail and UMiot 
ol worionan; Bynm one of tke moat im- 
aad lax ; and eomidnring kow rarely poeta baTe 
aw j«dgad ai%kt of aadt oikor, kow kaid it ia Cor any 
■an 9fm to judge ari^ of a eontooftpocary, wo akall noi 
too WMk wondor if Landor Culed to aee tbat tke AiUbl, 
faitili, laral, indMtrioi poobj of 8o«tkaj 
MlkiiV wkiek woold alra^Ar iaimit a aoeoi 
tioB, wkile tkat of tke otkai^ witk ita gbrii« Iknlta, iu 
Miaitko tkat aam ao oaml ofon wkan tkay are nnat 
famiiliblib tli koadloag ovraBl otar io«^ and Maootk, 
waa tke «Manaea of a pammalily tkat wodd i »pi aw and 
JMniaali pualaiilj to tka klaat day. 

AH tkoaa wktiw of Lurior to kia 
OMMiBto tka Ugkt in tka ooooa ofkii 
aid kia wock at PIh. Hia i^WBOiwi wttk 8o«tkij, in 
tka diape of lattMB and eoM^puMBli of boolBH iaaadoaa 
aa «««. Wa tnd kirn alio in nnHj^inadaaei witk 
Wotdawottk klmaalf. on tonM of poil amlnal laapaet 
aad aoutoij. On tka lilMiy unwlinfriii of tka kow 
Itfndor ptintod ao«a jait aad atriUag 
altkoi«kiaftfotB«kiek piifilii tkoM ftoa 
vyimpiairionon tka pnfalie aiad, in a book pnkliikad 
al Ptea in 18S0. Ikia waa tka tofauM caDad UgUim 

90 LANDOR. [chap. 

Heroica, containing the carefully matured fruits^ of 
all his Latin studies and exercises during many years 
past. The earlier Oxford edition, printed, as we have 
seen, about the time Landor was leaving Llanthony, had 
contained, besides other miscellaneous matter, five heroic 
tales or idyls in hexameter verse ; this Pisa edition con- 
tains ten, most of which Landor afterwards turned into 
English for his volume entitled Hellenics, and upwards of 
fifty sets of hendecasyllabics. Like all the really original 
writing of the moderns in this language, Landor's Latin 
poems are not easy reading. His style is completely 
personal, as indeed we should expect from a scholar who 
used Latin often by preference for the expression of his 
most intimate thoughts and feelings; it does not recall 
the diction or cadences of any given master ; it is not per- 
fectly free from grammatical and prosodial slips ; but it 
is remarkably spontaneous, energetic, and alive. The 
volume concludes with a long critical essay, developed 
from the Qucestiuncula of 1803, on the cultivation and 
use of Latin — De cultu atqiie usu Latini sermoms. 

This essay contains much that would, if Landor had 
only written it in his noble English instead of his only 
less noble Latin, have counted among his most interesting 
work. He has written, he says, because too much leisure is 
prejudicial alike to virtue and to happiness ; and he has 
published his work in Italy because he desires to avoid 
being confounded by those among whom he is sojourning 
with the promiscuous crowd of travelling Englishmen 
{quia nolui turmalis esse, nolui opinione liominum cum 
cceteris Britannnarum peregrinantium, cnjuscumque sint 
ordinis, conturhari). His avowed purpose is the para- 
doxical one of pleading for the Latin language as that 
proper to be used by all civilized nations for the expres- 


mm of their moak dignified and danble thonghti. Wby 
ilwidd Umm be eaUed the deed kagoagee whkh akme 
wiDnererdiet WhjihoiildaiiyooediooeetooagnTe on 
^aaa when it ia open lo htm to eognre on heryl-aloDe t 
Whal litenry pli—iia eaa be ao graei to • nan ae that 
of eoa p ea iag in Mm l aa goa g e of hie eariieal aad Boaft 
frottAil laaeona f KagHah, eren TSagKA, may decay, for 
then aie a%iia abtoed d the d e ci a denne of Fngland'i 
pdity, aad that of her hngnagw eumot ML to follow ; hot 
LaliB hae annriTed and will cootiBQe to awnre all the 
f i ffiwilndo e of time. And modi move to the auM eflbet ; 
to wUeh IB added a pondeneed eritieel aanatiTe of the 

motHOtW Ob XiflrtP MM0V fltB09 vOB BOOHHIBOtL wQRM'ttlClttff 

apfo^giooa ioJliarity with a Utaature to moat people 
neither ^miltar not intaieeting. Thia i» intet^nraed 
wifli erftjdama, in like maamer aBCcinct and antli o ril a ti f e, 
em tha pvineipel poela of aaeiaBt Reaa^ and with many 
■■awhJBg obeai laliuua, both general and analytic, on the 
poela aad poedyof Kngtod. Lndor hae alaoUaiiag 
at Tnm0»t iiariring how tha onee Tanalad Hemrimit oC 
Vollaife te eonk lo tl» krel of a keaoo-book fcr teeeh- 
iiM haroie wttt^'-^MA hania iialMBfle— 4ik the ■ ^ m m mi • Kni 
wmtw a Hn^ oa the elhar head, fta ttiatrnwl of poela in 
Fmaea^ wham amy mw tafcia lo Umnlf • ahan of their 
gloty, with their IrmlmaBt iaBi^aMi, wham no mm win 
I c ia wt e any p oetie gl o t y wBeapt liaown. Intheeonmaofthe 
leader tnda OBwaJan fcr eetmalof hk alrikii^ 
lhi% ttwk effaiy gnat poet iainaameaort 
the emkar «f tint mn who appmektee the del^Ma iflhe 

hmmimk kHm pri, McmI Urn tUmrt, Baniimtmfimimt). 

With l eiiii m to the EngUeh wvikn of hk own dey, 

Lander hm a ina and oa the whok a jmt 

92 LANDOE. [chap. 

the Broughams, JeflEreys, and their meaner rivals or satipl- 
lites in the trade of criticism as then practised ; followed 
by an apostrophe to "Wordsworth — " admirable man, 
citizen, philosopher, poet !" — whom neither seclusion, nor 
dignity of life, nor the common reverence of men, has been 
able to protect from the virulence of these enemies of all 
good men and writers. And yet, if only he had been 
dead before they were born, these same traducers would 
have been the foremost to bring their incense to his tomb. 
Coming to Byron, Landor begins with the saying that the 
greatest poets have in all times been good men, and there 
is no worse mistake than to suppose vice the natural con- 
comitant of genius. But most men prefer the second-best 
to the best ; and when there appears a writer of talent 
and fertility, whose life and style are alike full of showy 
faults, he is sure of notoriety and acclamation. The true 
advice for him is to mend his morals, to be more careful 
of his style, to control the ardours of his temperament, to 
rush less hastily into print, and then by the time he is 
forty he may well produce something epical and truly 
great {iiigens nescio quid et vere epiciim). The passage is 
far from being either unkind or unjust. Southey in the 
next year quoted it, adding words expressive of his 
enthusiastic regard and admiration for its author, in a 
note to the preface of his Virion of Judgment. This is 
the preface in which Southey made his famous attack upon 
Byron and the " Satanic school ;" an attack which, with the 
inconceivably unlucky performance which followed it in 
the shape of an apotheosis of George III. iu lumbering 
and lame hexameters, gave Byron, who, as he said, 
" liked a row," an opportunity too good to be lost. 
"We all know the consequences. If Southey's attack is 
remembered, it is because of Byron's never-to-be-forgotten 


iMoii. lapok, nDtflfth»piot^oonttpo in de n o>, inwhkh 
Bttoo with hk nnwi «ad lut mi&niMit BMikas no raeh 
honoowbia figura m hia ugudkioos but nneerdy in- 
di^MBl aad pfffieily lojal utegQiiiil ; but of Bynm't 
ova po«Ue, modring, and immoitel Vitiom. In ft note 
to thia BjTon d«tlt « pawing thrust at the laoraata'a 
i tt fl o ii ^iiuu a Mand Savagiiia^ or Sarage lAndor — ** aoch ia 
hit glim eognoman * — " who enltirataa much prirata ra- 
Bown in the ahape of Litin reraea," and whoae opinion of 
hia lata aorcnign waa ao atrihin^y ai rarianea with 
that of hia friaad. Byion naxt retomad to the c^aiga 
a^aiaaC Doidar in a nota to The tdamd. HaTing in thia 
poam aTowadly paraphrMad Landor'a linaa upon a ae»> 
ahaU in OMr, whieh ha had. haaid ShaOaj laetta^ BjroB 
takta oecaairm to dadan tfiai ha haa narer read the poam, 
and to quote OiftMd'b opiaioa that tha raat of it ia <* tBMh 
of tha wotat and moat taaaaa iJaaBiipUwi.* Than again 
than ara tha waU-kaown linea in Don Jnaa, — 

•kal anil biiibHiiiI BaoKaa aavaga X^ador 
Haa >ali fcr a a<w wgaa Boatha/a i 

*'Daap«oathad** ia good; and ia all thk than waa 
maA man miiehial thaa aMliaa oa ^rroa'a paki. Hia 
aeeoaat of hia rial faaHny towaida I«ador ia aztant, in 
tha dflated laport of Mj IWaaiii^iai, aa foDowa;— 

▲t Pka. a ftiaad tald ma Oat WaHar Sm^o Laa4er had 
iaalaiaJ ka either woaM aat ar aaald aat lead my verita. I 
aakaa ay nUninai Mnd if ke waa aava wUeh it waa thai 
Under aaii.aa the MaM ael waa aet aftaahra, and the aaald 

Lander ia tha tablet ef ■waaty aa a panaa ta wham a 
j^^iu K.»«t !>• givw ia mj fcrtlioemiag weak, thanyh he 

94 LANDOE. [chap. 

really is a man whose brilliant talents and profound erudition I 
cannot help admiring as much as I respect his chara-cter, 

Lander's retort to the Byronic coups-de-patte appeared 
presently in the shape of an apologue, in one of his Gon- 
versations, where the personage of Byron is shadowed 
forth under that of Mr. George Nelly, an imaginary son 
of Lord Rochester's : — 

Whenever he wrote a had poem, he supported his sinking 
fame by some signal act of profligacy, an elegy by a seduction, 
an heroic by an adultery, a tragedy by a divorce. On the re- 
mark of a learned man, that irregularity is no indication of 
genius, he began to lose ground rapidly, when on a sudden he 
cried out at the Haymarket, There is no God. It was then 
surmised more generally and more gravely that there was 
something in him, and he stood upon his legs almost to the 
last. Say what you will, once whispered a friend of mine, 
there are things in him strong as poison, and original as 

The subjects discussed in Landor's Latin essay had 
been literary alone. But other things besides literature 
occupied his thoughts in these years at Pisa. In 1819 
and the following years began the first stirrings of those 
political movements which are not ended yet -the first 
uprisings, after the settlement of 1815, of the spirit of 
liberty and nationality against dynasties and despotisms. 
The Spanish republics of South America had struck for 
freedom against the mother country ; the Spaniards them- 
selves next rose against their king, the restored and perjured 
Ferdinand ; the flame spread to Italy, where the flag of 
revolt was raised against the Bourbons in Naples and the 
Austrians in Lombardy, and to Greece, where peasant 
and brigand, trader and pirate, women and children, young 
and old, on a sudden astonished the world with deeds of 


•Dd fQeeMrfbl lMrafani«dBil tteTwk. AU 
Ummb momMnl* I^ador foUoired with pawioaile sjin* 
I»lhj, and vith conoymdhig d atw IiHcin the uim m uim of 
tha Holy AllkoM for thair mpwwwn, th« dnlibOTtimw 
of tha CoograM of Vorona, and the Tnuck iiiTan<m of 
Spaia. Ouadaf^» tentetite and half-heaited eftnie in 
the eanaa of liberty he wwdemnad aeaioely lea than tha 
deqwIaepredilaelaoiiaofCieaeni^ Ha would hare had 
Ea^BBd ctrika erarywheta for the o ppr ew d againai tha 
oppwawr. Hi* own Spanish title and daeoratka Lander 
iMid indigBantly aeni hack on tha Tiobtion by Ferdinand of 
Ilia Charter. He now (18S1) addi— iJ to the peopleof 

aIj an eaMy or orataoa on lapmeeirtaliie g ota imu ent, 
wxittaB in their own lBBgn<Ba, whidi he by thie tisM 
wvole and apolM with freedon, thoa|^ hia qpeakingaeeent 
wae atrongly Engliah to the last. From theee yean date 
■amy of the thoa|^ and feeling' to whidi ha gaia ex- 
ptaariao dnrii^ thoaa nasi aaaning fai hia poliHeal dialognaa. 

Pbem like Shelley'a Hdhu and hia Ofe lo Nc^plea 
natra thair eonnterpert in tha work of Landor in two 
pjeoee inniiadalthiatinaby tha Eaopean^and eneeially 
thaGfaek,i«Tahrtion. One ia iddwad <a OoHmUk ; tha 
other ieeaUad j g ^ n aai r a l i e a < bath iUaalnla tha nohleat 
ahitndaa-aad, at the aam liM^ it MMl be Mfal,the oukme 
biiihiiwii and depnadaaa— of whieh Lmdor'a poatfe 
thoqght and poetic rtyle were eapablei I iinole the bert 
part of the aeeond. The irfwaiuii tewaide the end ie to 
tha illriilioM of tha TMdih fleet by OuMie with hie 
two imahipa and handM of nan. 

96 LANDOE. [chap. 

There tiny pleasures occupy the place 

Of glories and of duties ; as the feet *. 

Of fabled faeries when the sun goes down 

Trip o'er the grass where wrestlers strove by day. 

Then Justice, call'd the Eternal One above, 

Is more inconstant than the buoyant form 

That bursts into existence from the froth 

Of ever- varying ocean : what is best 

Then becomes worst ; what loveliest, most deform'd. 

The heart is hardest in the softest climes. 

The passions flourish, the afiectious die, 

O thou vast tablet of these awful truths 

That fillest all the space between the seas, 

Spreading from Venice's deserted courts 

To the Tarentine and Hydruntine mole, 

What lifts thee up ? what shakes thee ? 'tis the breath 

Of God. Awake, ye nations ! spring to life ! 

Let the last work of his right hand appear 

Fresh with his image, Man. Thou recreant slave 

That sittest afar off and helpest not, 

thou degenerate Albion ! with what shame 

Do I survey thee, pushing forth the spunge 

At thy spear's length, in mocking at the thirst 

Of holy Freedom in his agony. 

And prompt and keen to pierce the wounded side. 

Must Italy then wholly rot away 

Amid her slime, before she germinate 

Into fresh vigour, into form again ? 

What thunder bursts upon mine ear ? some isle 

Hath surely risen from the galphs profound. 

Eager to suck the sunshine from the breast 

Of beauteous Nature, and to catch the gale 

From golden Hermus and Melena's brow. 

A greater thing than isle, than continent, 

Than earth itself, than ocean circling earth, 

Hath risen there ; regenerate Man hath risen. 

Generous old bard of Chios ! not that Jove 

Deprived thee in thy latter days of sight 

Would I complain, but that no higher theme 

riBA. 87 

A pmOaar*. » p7i% sirolM tlqr MBg; 

Whmm OS tW Ckka coMlt «■• J»v«litt's thnnr 

n«m viMra ikr towfcrto — . wkM* Iky emdl* Hood, 

IWko i mwa tf ■rtfJiiulU Giwki Maifd 

Tte MTOl koil «r Aii^ a OM U«v 

SoaMaad il bio air . . . aad Oiocoo waa ftw . . . 

And OTO Ikm gkriM boui'd, thy doj ted okMHL 

Li* all thai Bio «f«r ww, giira waj, 

AU thalOtyBipiaalo«oar«rMBaodapa«t 

Tho MamlMMiaa OQiaaaa arrortold 

ft loll ■«■ gliain— , ■! I ■ Till afi. 

X«r. liilMUIa tlw oootia oTUm Mm. 

VWtaa, Bor AaUMhsfrma wboao aoaai 

BMifaaai C«ai wacdo tka yooood Lava, 

Aad o«oa tha ti^hfclj'w dip to woaiy Ibei 

Ib th^ ««nB ■tiaaialM oTtka ttamiU bolow. 



Both in telling of Lander's literary collisions with Byron, 
and in tracing tlie course of his S3aTipathies with the in- 
surgent populations of Southern Europe, we have heen 
led beyond the strict limits of his stay at Pisa. He left 
that city in September 1821 ; and left, it, strange to say, 
at peace, having had only one slight brush with autliority, 
and that only with the censorship of the press, concerning 
a line in one of his Latin poems. He went next to 
Florence, where he established himself with his family in 
a handsome suite of apartments in the Medici palace. 
Here he lived for five years, and for the three following 
principally in a country house, the Villa Castiglione, 
distant half an hour's walk from the same city. 

During these eight years Landor was engaged, to the 
exclusion of nearly all other work, with the production of 
his Imaginary CGnversations. The experimental jiart of 
his literary career had now ended, and the period of solid 
and confident production had begun. He had found the 
form and mode of expression that best suited his genius. 
The idea of writing prose dialogues or conversations 
between illustrious personages of the past was no new 
one in his mind. In the days of his connexion with 

cs. t] Un AT FLOEKXCB. M 

Wkij; jounull'tm Urenty 7«tn bolbra, h» had ofcwiil io 
Adair for inwKion in the Mormimg CknmeU « dkkgoe 
between Uurke and GitnTiUa, whieh lad baoi dediaed. 
He haJ about the mum tfaM wrilUn aaollMr bekwwn 
Umuj IV. and AbmU 8«n«B. AAar that 1m Wd Mvar 
rigvlailj raw u aad tUi Ibm of «OBipoaitaofi antil towafda 
tin data of hia dqautara from Vvul. But it was a iatm 
flosfaoial to ovaiy habit of hia mind. The giaatniaa of 
giaaft <ihaifiat» vaa what moat inpifaaed him in tha 
world. Their exploiu and aofferingi^ their pa l at e i aa of 
iaipileet aad will, the opwatimi of their tnlaawio aad 
or— |il% woo for hia the Maanpt of hiatory. Ho oovU 
mt briag himaelf to reganl rtatiatical or aodal ftda, or 
the voridng of ooUoetiTe or ioipesoml ineai ia hiUDan 
■SttiB, aa deaanring ftom tha hiitotian aoy oaonmiauato 
dagrae of attentioo with the lirea and achievanantB of 
isdividmla. In tlua taniiar ni haio>woiahn J nff^*^ 
waa a tr«o fliactple of antiqiiity, and ha Mgndod the 
whole laid of hiatory Ikooi the aneiaal point of riew. 
Tha osUaordiaary laofje aad thoRM^UMaa of hianadiag 
■Mda him fimiliar with all the hading igmaa of TiiM. 
Hia dMMftie iaatiM* praaptod him to wa aiawi o tham 
ia th««hl with tho iMlane aad tha aeoaata of life. It 
b oowrmae with thaae mato eovpMUOM that ha was 
to apaad the beat part of hie d^ya aad aighla. 
**EvaB theaa with whom I have not Uved, aad whom 
indeed I hare aerar aac% aftet aie by aympathj aa if I 
had kaowa tham iniimilil/, aad I hoU with tham ia my 
walka maay imagjaaiy woaiiamliiiai * ElaewhamLaador 
adoiaa aad amphlfaa ia hia choioeat Tata thia aoeoaat of 
hie owa hahili^ ia OKiar to tmarfbr U to tha lipt oT 
retmdk "Whaalwaayo a iytlwmiBadol wa adi riig 
aolitaiy plaeaa, aad aevor waa afraid of alambemig ia 
■ S 

100 LANDOR. [chap. 

woods and grottoes. Among the chief pleasures of my 
life, and among the commonest of my occupations, Avas the 
bringing before me such heroes and heroines of antiquity, 
such poets and sages, such of the jjrosperous and the un- 
fortunate, as most interested me by their courage, their 
eloquence, or their adventures. Engaging them in the 
conversations best suited to their characters, I knew per- 
fectly their manners, their steps, their voices : and often 
did I moisten with my tears the models I had been form- 
ing of the less happy." 

If it was thus an essential habit of Landor's mind to 
think about persons, and dramatically, to think in frag- 
ments, and disconnectedly, was not less so. In his mental 
communion with the heroes and heroines of the past, he 
began by framing for them isolated thoughts and sen- 
tences, led them on next to an interchange of several, and 
added more by degrees until the Avhole scene was filled 
out. He confesses as much himself, in a metaphor which 
is characteristic also of his tastes as a lover of trees and 
l)lanting. " I confess to you that a few detached thoughts 
and images have always been the beginnings of my Avorks. 
Xarrow slips have risen up, more or fewer, above the 
surface. These gradually became larger and more consoli- 
dated ; freshness and verdure first covered one part, then 
another ; then plants of firmer and higher growth, how- 
ever scantily, took their places, then extended their roots 
and branches; and among them, and around about them, 
in a little while you yourself, and as many more as I de- 
sired, found places for study and recreation." Dialogue 
is a form of literature in which all these peculiarities 
could find play, not only without impediment but with 
advantage. Accordingly Landor was himself astonished 
at the abundance and the satisfaction with which he found 


hiiMwIf pottriag o«l hk iiitiHni'itil •ton* in this furm 
wboB h* ImmI oqoi basoa. He wm oiofvd to do to partly 
bf Um eon m> o ud tao» of Soothej, vho wm taSk at this 
tima ol ft ptojeded book of Cottoquim of hb own ; and 
putly by tiM ooBTanataoB and CBeonngaMBl of Fnuwia 
Uara. Laaior had m idaa al Um oalMt haw far Ua aow 
fitaniy aalaq^ciae vaa doatineil to eany bin. Ho aliU 
aadilated^aa tho graal vock of hia hb,m bkloiy to be 
wrfllaB aitfMr ia eo- o pe iaU oo with SoBtbey or amianilely. 
Tbk idae of woridng in em^nnetaoii witb Sontbay, looig 
aad aaihwily antatteiBad by Laador, ia e a%Bal piool^ 

wflfeieaay as bia, of bia nnbouadad and defcieBtial l ag aid 
for bia Mead. Tbe idea waa gindaaUy aad aatanaDy 

tbai of writing by himself, in tbe focm of a series of 

Ei^kad ftoai tbe year 17:5. In the anaataaM be 
lebowid iaipetoooaly al bia dialogaca. He bad belbve 
biai Ibe anuaplee of anay ilhiatriooa writrn in all agaa ; 
td Plate^ Zaaopboa* aad Tj'it^tft, of Ciono aad mtthiaa, 
of Ktaaiaa aad Mote ; and, aaMag EaglUi aatbota of 
i w ai p a iat ifely leeaai dalr, tboaa of I«agbonw, Lyttalloo, 
aad Haid. It ia naaiUew lo aay that be did aoi doaaly 
fellow, aaeb laaa bailali^ aay of Ua pmiaiiaaauis. He 
vaa aoi at Sni aars of tbe MSibod to be adopCad, a»l 
bifsa by plaaaiag aal eoaTanatioaa on partieakr tescte 
aad lopiea, Tbia waa aooa ghria ap^ aad be wnte 
aeeacdiaa to tbe f b o tea oc tbe pteoeenalios of tba 
awaant. For laar of being at aay tiae faegbt edaiiag 
either tbe Matter or the awaaar of aay ether writat; be 
aaad to abalaia abofalbar freai wadiag bafcre be biaiilf 
Ika^oi Iff wpfttity ** leal tbe tbeMaaboaUbaaalai^ aad 

102 LANDOR. [chap. 

some of the ideas take the liberty of playing with mine. 
I do not wish the children of my brain to imitate t^e gait 
or learn any tricks of others." By the 9th of March, 
1822, he had finished fifteen dialogues, aiwi burnt two 
others which had failed to satisfy him. Tlie manuscript 
of the fifteen he consigned not many days later by a 
private hand to Longmans, to whom he at the same time 
addressed his proposals for their publication. 

The parcel was delayed in delivery, and no answer 
reached Landor for more than three months. Long before 
that his impatience had risen to boiling-point. lie rushed 
headlong to the direst conclusions. Of course the manuscript 
had been lost ; or of course it had been refused ; or both ; 
and it was just like his invariable ill-fortune. He was in 
despair. He took to his bed. He swore he would never 
write another line, and burnt what he had got by him 
already written. " This disappointment has brought back 
my old bilious complaint, together with tlie sad reflection 
on that fatality which has followed me through life, of 
doing everything in vain. I have, however, had the reso- 
"lution to tear in pieces all my sketches and projects, and 
to forswear all future undertakings. I try to sleep away 
my time, and pass two-thirds of the twenty-four hours in 
bed. I may speak of myself as of a dead man. I will 
say, then, that these Conversafions contained as forcible 
writing as exists on earth." 

This was early in June, and it was not until the end of 
August that news of the manuscript at last arrived. In 
the meantime Landor had recovered his equanimity, and 
was busy writing new dialogues and making additions to 
the old, Longmans in fact refused the book. A whole 
succession of other publishers to whom it was offered 
either refused it also, or else offered terms which Avere 


uiuc<»ptobla Ily Ukis tinia, howsTer, Luidor wm •gmin 
too dimply tagranBd wiUiilMwivk of wnltaf lobailow 

Ho hod BOW pal ovwything oonettBed with Iho pvbttsft* 
ItM inlo tho haadiof JalnB Hon^ to wliam ko wm m yat 
kMnm oidy tkfnagli kit hnihm FkUMk^ bnl who tagady 
■■ilwiooir mmI loyalljr diidwigad Iho talk. VUn, tk«a « 
•I Trinity CaUaga^ Ombridg^ panmded o piUiaher 

T*ylor, with n^oaa ha wm tm tanu of panoaal 
ftiwiiihip^ to tokenp the book; tho pioCli orkMaai^il 
aay, to ho Aand equally botwoeo Mihor and pahKihar. 
Pnsw&Uy thare araae di ftwacwa halwaoi Taylor and Hara 
abtwH Ihf awHittMitHi irf ww h Of pt#Tagffy^*hwh tht fcfmw 
jwigBd oeapftiaaahk. Fint Wonhroth, than 8o«thay, 
agaaaiag to nndartako tha oflloa ; hntovan afiiBal SoQthey 
Taylov odhaaad to aoao d hia otjaetfaM. All thk 
MwiaiiliifaMo dsky. In tha nManlaM tho 

of tha telhaonuag hook acooaad no aUgM dagiaa 
of mpaataiien. Aa o fcaalaato of ito aontanla tho critioal 
tUologna balwai 8o«th«y and Vamm on tha aMrits of 
WonlawoHh^ paatiy waa pobltihad by agnaaaanl in ana 
of tha aonthly nrkw in 18231 Tha hmH J«|gM 
hitoOHlod and alnick, and Woidswoith hiaaalf 
gntiiid. Landoc^s original iBtmlifln Wd haantodadft> 
aato hb book to Wonlawotth, and hk annoancaaaaBt of 
tha fcd had haan taaatrod by tho poai with tho atmool 

|1 Baft vhib tha Tnhwn who in tha piaaa it 

aaaMd to I^ndar thai aonM of hk aipiwaiuai i^afawl 
thoM inoathority wwa ationgM than ooaid baplaaaimto 
oaaofWoadawoith'kopiniona; ao with aonrtaona ospk. 
nationa ha aha^fid hia pvpaaih and whan tha hoak al kni 
appaaiad, in 18S4, iU twv 

104 LAJSTDOR. [chap. 

tively, the first to the husband of his wife's sister, j\Iajor- 
General Stopford ; the second to a soldier of liberty, 
General ISEina, the champion of the popular cause in Spain. 
In the course of a preface j)refixed to the first volume Landor 
describes his present purposes in literature as follows : — 
" Should health and peace of mind remain to me, and the 
enjoyment of a country where, if there are none to assist at 
least there is none to molest me, I hope to leave behind 
me completed the great object of my studies, an orderly 
and solid work in history ; and I cherish the persuasion 
that Posterity will not confound me with the Coxes and 
Foxes of the age." 

In the two volumes thus produced and prefaced, dialogues 
the most dissimilar in subject, and the most various in 
the personages introduced, are brought together without 
system or connexion. Lord Brooke and Sir Philip Sidney 
discourse on letters and morality beneath the oaks of 
Penshurst. Eichard I. encounters his faithful Abbot of 
Boxley on the road by Hagenau. Southey recites to 
Porson the Laodaniia of ^Yordsworth, and. they criticize 
its beauties and shortcomings, -^schines and Phocion 
discuss the character of Demosthenes and the prospects of 
Greece on one page, and on the next Queen Elizabeth 
banters Cecil on his slight esteem for poetry and poets. 
General Kleber opens the locket and the letter taken from 
the body of an English officer killed in wantonness hj the 
French during the war in Egypt. Demosthenes discusses 
policy and oratory with his teacher Eubulides, and Buona- 
parte receives the adulations of the Senate through its 
president. Milton converses with Andrew Marvel on the 
forms and varieties of comedy and tragedy, and "Washing- 
ton with Franklin on the causes and conduct of the war 
between the American colonies and the mother countrv. 


nd OM tlM poliUcal pfO^McU of each in the fntara. Roger 
AKbuB wunt hU lore ly popfl, LmIj Jana Gray, of the 
fmh thai await her aAer her nank^ The wiadon of 
BwQB and of Hookar are azhibttad togalher, aad tha 
woridliiMw of the oaa ael ia eootiaal to tha piety of the 
othai; Tha «xtiaT«guma of deyitiem and of aiiper> 
•l^ioB aia let forth in a tmo of Ariatophanie earioatore in 
a eoBTcnatioB of Looia X IV. with hii eonfeanor. Fteridea 
aad Sophoelea walk and talk amid tha new-limned and 
aav.4Bnr«n ^oriea of the Aerapolia. The pioapeeta of 
r a mluti oa aiy Spain and favofataooaiy Gnaee^ and tha 
dnliao of the Eniopean poweia to both, are diieiiand in a 
diah^ia of Oeaand Lmj with the Coia Merino, and 
aaolhar of Prinee Mavroeordato with Colooolnoi. The 
8ooleh phitoaopher and the Seoleh poet. Home and 
Homo, eonrarM of their own piohlwMtie lalatiooahip, 
of orthodoxy, and of tolantkoL Hauy VI 11. intradea 
anddaaly apon hia eaal^iff wife, Anna Boleyn, in the daya 
jort before her aseention. Cieero m o raliw a with hie 
bnUMT QnlBetaa <MMi<wi» tM m^ ifmih^ IrieMiahip^ and 
gloty, OB tha eve of hia krt birthday. The aaditiooa 
Tooke wina fkom the Tory Johneon a kindly hearing tot 
hm Tiawa cm Eo^Uah kngnagu and orthogmphy, Tiewa 
whieh in fed am Lndoi^a own, and the cftel of whi^h 
makea itaelf pcartieaUy p a r ea i f od in the qpdltng both of 
thie and of hia other pnbliihad writh^ii^ aariiv aad later. 
In hia own paraon Laador oppoin ae Int w ri oo nto r la two 
dialognea ; one prindpallly on aurhttertnra and owdih^ 
haU with hia landlotd at Genon; tha oUMr m poaliy, 
wilini— , and ftitiliiii ffi lh *ht FwikI> lftrf«4^^ WHw^ 
the Abbi DoUUa. Intarapataad an anppla»iataiy aotea 
and dimeilrtioM in Landoi^a oMtoaaij vain of ■■^■gM 
whim and wiadon^ of ardiDt aathHiini and hltj 

106 LAXDOB, [chap. 

all conveyed in the same dignified, sedate, authoritative 
tones. Finally, " as a voluntary to close the work," he 
appends the poem on the Greek and Italian revolutions 
of which we have quoted a part above. 

The book made when it appeared no great impression 
on the popular mind, but upon that of students and lovers 
of high literature one as strong at least as Landor's friends 
expected. He could no longer be charged with culti- 
vating private renown among a select band of admirers. 
He had challenged the general verdict over an extensive 
field of thought and imagination. The verdict of the 
critics, in that age of carping and cudgelling literary par- 
tisanship, could not be expected to be unanimous, least of 
all in the case of a writer of judgments so decisive 
and opinions so untempered as Landor. Jeffrey only 
allowed Hazlitt to notice the book in the Edinburgh 
Bevieio when he had ascertained that the enthusiastic 
opinion which Hazlitt had formed of Landor's powers of 
mind and style, and of the beauty of particular dialogues, was 
qualified by strong disapproval of many of his opinions, 
especially of his opinions on Buonaparte ; and even then 
Jeftrey cut and modified his contributor's work, so that the 
article as it appeared was of a very mixed character. The 
Qiiarterhj as a matter of course was hostile ; but the sting 
had been taken out of Quarterly hostility by a dexterous 
stroke of friendship on the part of Julius Hare. This was a 
criticism which Hare published in the London Review just 
before the appearance of the Quarterly, and in which he 
anticipated all the reprehensions of the Tory oracle, 
putting them into the mouth of an imaginary interlocutor 
whom he calls Hargreaves, and represents as a cynical, 
scribbling barrister, and himself traversing and over- riding 
them. From Southey and "Wordsworth there came, 

r.] THE IVAGINART COinni8ATI0!re. 107 

vnUai M a tia^ AmUt • ktter of Umln nd ptaiw 
vUdi Lndor giwUy cteUitd. It vm Ml aod Mid, 
■moog IImm who baT« Um rigid to wfeak ton fbtority, tlwt 
a MW dMne had uimd. Om thing at anj imie then 
wat BO gaiaMgftii^ aad thai WM tha ciMikBM of Laadof^i 
K^jliri^ tkaHra^tk, dignitj, and kamMqr of kia pma 

• le, qualitiea in whidi ha was ohrioualy withoat a living 
nral. For the fini ttaa^ Laador waa ahia to antieipata a 
cartdn niiaiun of pnil fkom his wuck. Both to pnit 
•ml popularity, iadaad, ha waa afCcnaloaMd to axpnaa an 
tadifeanea which waa qnita tineMa ; hot tha MWiowtagt 
■Milar Uipaenaddada ml imI to tha ooaliwMMa of 
hit lahomrn. Alaott hWbia tha flnl adition had appcaiad, 
ha had ptapaiad anlMJab for ila axpanaioB in aneoBd, 
taoMMiit orthnandaMoiatlMdoftwa Ha kapt Ibr- 
waiding aonaeCiosa and inaBHtona for tha original dauognai^ 
tha hMw «»«'i"'W^ aoMa of tha heat aMtter whidi tfwy 
eonlain in tfM Ibiii wUdi wa wnr poMam That to tha 
diabgM of the Ciceraa ha added tha alhfwj of IWth, tha 
*t^ poHcct, I think, next to ooa (and ttat alao it hj 

.ador) in tha iM^fiA hofwga; to that of Ltey and 
^criws tha gnadtat of aD hit ovthoala wcwniig tha 
orindpka of Eagibh poHej ahraad ; and flfw to tha hiitf, 

i^h-pitahad, and hjgh-wvom^ dialngwtt of Lady Jana 
Giajrnd AaMBoltjn,apagaort«oaadi. TethapaaHiga 
on Mr. Oaotga Kaily tha death of Bynm, whieh htd 
happened ahovt tha ^aa of ita original pnhfieatioa, iw h w^f t 
|^i^«V<y In ap n ii n d thia noMe pt M iMwtft :— 

It hdbat the dblegae wae printed, he hed 
thew tenriew ta Onm, whieh will i«nd«hiiaaa 
to Hendlj, thoM ^ whieh he — ited eaA faaweal 
ei^ fai the faiihntajr ef pcaiM, ka aa lag Hi vahw in i 
•he haidlj waali have dNteed to the am* ifniag af her 

108 LANDOE. [chap. 

heroes ; if, I repeat it, lie had performed those services, the 
performance of which I envy him from my soul, and as much 
as any other does the gifts of heaven he threw away so care- 
lessly, never would I, fi'om whatever provocation, have written 
a syllable against him. I had avoided him ; I had slighted 
him ; he knew it. He did not love me ; he could not. While 
he spoke or wrote against me, I said nothing in print or con- 
versation ; the taciturnity of pride gave way to other feelings 
when my friends, men so much better and (let the sincerity of 
the expression be questioned by those who are unacquainted 
with us) so much dearer, so much oftener in my thoughts, were 
assailed by him too intemperately. 

Landor's materials for his third volume comprised no less 
than twenty dialogues, including one very long, rambling, 
and heterogeneous, between the Due de Richelieu, a 
vulgar Irish woman of title, a general also Irish, and a 
virtuous English schoolmaster turned sailor. "With this 
were associated some of Landor's best brief dialogues of 
character and passion, notably the Roman two of Mar- 
ccllus with Hannibal and Tiberius with Yipsania ; several 
of his monumental satires against tyranny and superstition, 
including the terrible dialogue of Peter the Great with 
his son Alexis, and the playful one of Lossuet and the 
Duchesse de Fontanges ; a discussion between Rousseau 
and JMalesherbes, which is one of the best of the modern 
meditative class ; a visit of Joseph .Scaliger to Mon- 
taigne, the latter a personage for Avhom Landor enter- 
tained a peculiar sympathy and admiration ; and among 
the ancients a remonstrance of the poet Anacreon with 
the tyrant Polycrates, a contrast of the true stoic Epictetus 
with the false stoic Seneca, and a second conversation of 
Demosthenes and Eubulides. Himself Landor introduced 
as conversing with an English and a Florentine visitor on 
the death and the virtues of the Grand Duke Ferdinand 


of Tutamj, on poliiiei aad poctiy, mm! Mpaeklly on Um 
him tad gcnina of K«tti and 8holJ«j. 

If aajrihiaf «o«U MCSg* hm to twI Boom •gvo, to rnaoiv 
ik» ughi of Imt MHivd ud avfol nuMt UUiaf thtir atocMS €• 
tWgiwndia tWrnidrtof WU^i^an mif&tkmimm; if I 
cmU bt fkumil^hamtm mad vfmt^htmam, onmda nd popca, 
tribaan aad aMdiMK MMiterial onlan nd ftmAimg friam* 
clMkiaaiyBuaa: HvoaU WUmII aigkt allvaaida apMid 
aa Wv ia > olitad<^ whan tba pjtaaud of C«liai iteads 
ifaiait Um vail, ud poiate to tlM kmmMm toaiW of Kcala 

K«ta, ia hii JSa^/jraioji, b riclMr ia imogtry tbaa aitlMr 
' r^aaav or Bara>3 : aad tkna aia paMafM i»«luek ao poal kaa 
rivadaltkaMMeiMllMMoatiMMWgraoad. TiaMaloao 
la wphti a poal» wko alna^ 6r aatpaMri all 
ia tMa coaatiy ia tW poaf • aoat aoUa 
aHfftalw ..... Wa vill now ratora to Wialhj. laaoaaat 
aa a bojr. 1m poaaaaaad all tha ddieala ftiHagi of a 
I, all tka J iwfiada atiea of a aelMilar, aad naitail. ia 
jaal dagiaaa, tko aidear of tU poal vitk tha patiaaea aad far» 
baanaaa af Um p fc iln a op fci r . Uia taaiiaailj aad aharily vaat 
fcr Wjraad tkoaa af aaj awa (I WUava) ai paHnI ia analaaaa. 
Ha aaa aa««r kaova to apsk atfl af aa aaaaiy, aakaa ttal 
aaaaqr had daaa aeoM griofaaa fajaaliea ta aaodbar: Md ka 
£viM Ua laiiiiaii of obIt om Uin^nit paottdi witk Um Mlrn 

fur tTpHMJag Ilia daap ngrei at tlw 

bieh had kepi Ihaa alnagan^ Lmdor aoadadv >- 

Aa to »kal vnaiaa af kfaa aav Kfc la otar. ka aeaaplaa tka 
tktrd plaaa aaoaf tko poate of Um p caa ta t af«^ aad ia 
paiaHj tko MMal ilnaal,gtaaalkl, aad kawaoaioaa ^ Um j 

LatMlor'a iaplM oid« aao^^ Um poali is tka abofva 
vonla H^ ■!■■■§ II at il mj ■«■• Soathay, Wanbvoilk, 

110 LANDOR. [chap. 

Shelley. Eepublislung the conversation twenty years 
later, he varies the last words as follows : — 

" He occupies, if not the highest, almost the highest, place 
among our poets of the present age ; no humble station ; and 
is among the most elegant, graceful, and harmonious of the 
prose Avriters." 

With reference to his own position among his fellow- 
writers, Landor is as totally and cordially free from 
jealousy as it is possible for a man to be. At the same 
time he has no doubts ; and the text or notes of these 
personal dialogues occasionally contain a remark in the 
following stately key, — " "What I write is not written on 
slate, and no finger, not of Time himself, who dips it in 
the clouds of years, can efface it ; " and occasionally a 
derisive challenge to his reviewers, — let the sturdiest of 
them take the ten worst of his dialogues, " and if he 
equals them in ten years I will give him a hot wheaten 
roll and a pint of brown stout for breakfast." 

Landor panted for the immediate publication of his 
new edition, but was again foiled by his own impetuosity. 
Some want of tact in a letter of Taylor's, some slight 
delays of payment and correspondence on his part, together 
with the irritation Landor had not unnaturally felt under 
his timorous censorship, led to an outbreak which made 
all future relations between them impossible. Lander's an- 
noyance and his suspicions having been inflamed in the 
course of conversation with Hazlitt and Leigh Hunt, his 
imagination swiftly added fuel to the fire, and he presently 
exploded, writing to accuse Taylor of every kind of mis- 
conduct, and proclaiming every kind of desperate resolu- 
tion in consequence. " His first villainy instigated me to 
tliroAv my fourth volume, in its imperfect state, into the 
fire, and has cost me nine-tenths of my fame as a writer. 


Uw Mxt TilUinj will «bUU periMfM a ehaanqr fail <m 
ny chiUvMi^for «i iU iinaMiwrniniit I blow mj hmm 
uut Tlttf €mm ae Ibr affw, if I Uf, of vxikuig what 
€0«U be pibKikiii ; and I will take good ewe Ibat ay 
•OS ahilt BOi anfhr ia tbe ease way. Xol a liae of 
any kiad will I kavo bebiiid ae. My chiUi«B ihaU bo 
eailbBy waiei ofiiMl Ukntmn," Wm over mtimIL 
Keaas eo fBigelfal of biaalf f Was ever o ye igww m 
e BB Oo iP oy eo aooenguiie r 

Liador'e **for ever** raidy k w ted waan Uua a low 
weeka» and it is to hie ciedit thai when Jaliae San 
rrpUed to all thie with a perfeeU^ aenly and eliai^il- 
lorwaid kltor of iiaoMJHiti^ jwliiyii^r^ Am^ 7<»J><m' 
is afl bat a fiw oaiap etl M t paHiodan^ Laador neeivod 
the frimke in mleaee, and ooatin i ied to ontevet to Haie 
the farther anai^—i to niawwiii^ hie boot. Iheaala- 
riak inliindod §bk hk fsnth vofana he had, ae wa hava 
■M leed, deitioyed. Bat within a inr OMatha aooe he 

for two^ addilioMl vohoMi^ ari in the aawtiae Mather 
paHiehw had been fMmd in the poaon of Colbnin. 
Lendoi'a dan of the pooAli as hit fiat ^\^v t had baai 
a hmdved and aeraitgr ponadi odd. For the aioni 
edition he ao e t vo d in adraaee two hondad ponnde^ 
Ita int two vohnao appeaad in 1896; the thbd, the 
new Tofaaib dedieeted to BolivH^ net a^ 18tt^ and 
thea thae f olnaa wea now ngwdid a eoMlitnlipg 
the •*iBl eeria" of the work. 6oao 1Mb eljght dia- 
havi^g aiiM*, thafBorth and inh vofanae, 
the *«eeooiid eaia^'* wta antaMled to yet 
-uoiha la bK Jie r, D•Mu^ and ep pe a ad in 18191 Ihea 
two now vnlnaa iiialaJM belawn thi Jna^f af aaa 
JialqgnaoftheoMdiaailedehaaeler,, IWtefUediw 

112 LANDOR. [cHAi'. 

and Ceesar is the loftiest, most thoughtful, and urbane, next 
to that of the two Ciccros, among the more tranquil 
of Landor's Koman dialogues. The conversation of 
Diogenes and Plato, allowing for the peculiar view which 
Landor had formed of Plato's character and genius, is at 
once the most pungent and the most majestic of the 
Greek. In the dialogue of Metellus and Marius at the 
Avails of K'umantia, Landor embodies with masterly 
imagination the inexorable spirit of Roman conquest ; in 
that of Leofric and Godiva the charm of bridal tenderness 
and the invincibility of womanly compassion ; in that of 
Lady Lisle and Lady Elizabeth Gaunt, condemned to death 
during the bloody assize for sheltering the partisans of 
Monmouth, the constancy of martyrdom and the divine 
persistence of more than Christian forgiveness. Landor's 
own favourite conversation of all was that in wliich the phi- 
losopher Epicurus instructs at once in wisdom and in dal- 
liance his girl-pupils Leontion and Ternissa. A scarcely 
less ideal charm is breathed by Landor over the relations 
of his own contemporary Trelawny Avith the daughter of 
the Kleplit leader Odysseus, in the introduction of a 
dialogue Avhich turns afterwards on the discussion of 
European, and especially of Greek, politics. In a short 
scene between Peleus and Thetis he unites with the full 
charm of Hellenic mythology the full vividness of human 
passion. Satirical conversations between the French minis- 
ters Villele and Corbiere, the English Pitt and Canning, 
and the Portuguese Prince Miguel and his mother, give 
vent more or less felicitously to his illimitable contempt 
for the ministers and ruling families of modern states. 

Besides the contents of these five volumes, Avritten and 
published between the years 1821 and 1829, and contain- 
ing in all about eighty Conversations, Landor had before 


iIm kttar lUie writlea mmm iwraiy mora, whkh lie in- 
teadad for poblicmiion in • nxih. Bot fion one rwon 
and aaoUiar this tixth Tolnine neTer ftppeanii, and Um 
Milctttb which •houU hvn eompoted ii w«re for Iha 
BMwt put <mljr nadd pablie in tbo collcelcd edition of 
laador's writingB inraed in \SW, Counting then^ and 
the incwnw in the namber of the originel diekgim 
eSraled by dividing aome of them into two, end adding 
thoee which he wrote afterwaida at interrale ontil the 
jear of his death, the total namlmr of Jmmffimmy Cbmwr* 
mtHom left by Landor amoonta to just abort of a hnndrp<l 
and fifty. 

Thoee written in the eii^t yeam now nndei reTiew in- 
elnd«, therefore, abool two4hiida of the whola We 
hare aeen with what ardoor and facility, and with what a 
miaealkMiMi a ale ct i o n of ^leaken and of tofiiei^ they 
wenpcodoeed. Thairmnge extends orer the graaler part 
of life, literatttre, and history. Landor htmeeU^ end hii 
editoia after him, derieed in the eeqnel tariooe modaa of 
gnmping end daarifyiag them ; hnt none of theee ekaaifi- 
eatioaa era mtiafartoty. ComtermUiom* of lAs Oreekt ami 
Bammm fonn, indeed, one diatiaet hiatoiiflal diniion, hot 
noladivWonoowhieh Uiadeiiable to hMriH. Ithaa 
often been mid of Landor that he wrote of the Oraeka 
men like aGf«ek,aad of the Beamaamora like a Booma, 
than any other modea, and Iheaqriag in my judgment is 
"lie. Bat hie tfmtmanl of other thmaee ia not diftrant 
m kind ftom hie ttiatmant of theaa^ ami he haa not bean 
better inepired bj the lomnMe and the example of anti. 
qutty, thanby the ehaim of Italy, or the glory oCE^kmi. 
The original title of the two fiat vofanma, /mapfanrj 
' ' m rn vmii mm ^f iMmarf Mm mad SMammm, by no 
i»eane eenrerad the whole of their eonlnita ; and the edi- 


114 LAXDOE. [chap. 

torial divisions afterwards established by Mr. Forster, viz., 
Greeks and Romcuis, Soldiers and Statesmen, Literary 
Men, Famous Women, and Miscellaneous, cross and 
overlap each other in many directions. To my mind the 
only vital and satisfactory division between one class and 
another of Landor's prose conversations is that between 
the dramatic and the non-dramatic ; the words are inexact, 
and the distinction is far from being sharp or absolute ; 
but what I mean is this, that some of the compositions in 
question are full of action, character, and passion, and 
those I call the dramatic group ; in others there is little 
action, and character and passion are replaced by disqui- 
sition and reflection, and those I call by contrast the non- 
dramatic. In the former class, Landor is in each case 
taken up Avith the creative task of realizing a heroic or 
pathetic situation, and keeps himself entirely in the back- 
ground. In the latter class his energetic personality is 
apt to imi)ose itself upon his speakers, who are often 
little more than masks behind which he retires in order 
to utter his own thoughts and opinions with the greater 
convenience and variety. 

The dramatic conversations are mostly brief, and range 
over almost all periods of time. Central examples of the 
class are, from Eoman antiquity, the dialogues of Marcellus 
and Hannibal, and of Tiberius and Yipsania ; from the 
history or historic legend of England, those of Leofric and 
Godiva, of John of Gaunt and Joanna of Kent, of Henry 
VIII. and Anne Boleyn, and of Lady Lisle and Lady 
Elizabeth Gaunt ; from the history of France, those of 
Joan of Arc and Agnes Sorel, and of Eossuet and the 
Duchesse de Fontanges ; from that of Italy, the interviews 
of Dante with Beatrice, and of Leonora di Este with 
Father Panigarola. In these and similar cases Landor 


y takaa * moiive MSpBiltd bj hiitofj, baiag movo 

-rnKl Umb Io Miht QM of MqT ftotwU/ w cot d > c l 

nd iMtiJMiJMg to mil upt not 1117 mmm whadt to 

ivkd^a tvar wa% bol 00^ Mdi a M«M M 

L^vii, eotetod, UMoluMMlaaandaiianMtaBeM 

lu It M ihiiiiHi ham tKa ioa^giMitiv* aad 

'«nl point of viov thot hk voik ■ to be 

Hit «dMTo«r ii to embody the ipiiit of 

inch* in mnm ot whieb tbo oetiont and the 

UoltboiMMtiaMMWMidjiiit lumtnj 

^uooMi m ecipleto. Tbo q«iit, m I baTe 

Itmdy Mid, of K**"^n eaw|OMt itamtt tjpieallj Axod in 

iliibifn like tbatof Maumud, MotoUai; to does the 

int of KonaM ddnJiy in on* lako tba of TanemU 

id Conitantia ; aad of En^iah honoor in that of John 

' ^ud the QuoBo. In tht Mlaal '*—■ ntiir eondaet 

ii«a, Laador in thtia ihoit fiwpn ii H Bai ahova 

ure power and inM{^t equal to that of the veij 

^Bten. Unituif thtastnaaoffona to that»« 

ndrmoM, ba pMMiaaad niiM with ooaTiactag 

tof impaationnd leeKag. Oal 

I of hio ova btaii ha iMMfUMa 

a of thooa qcHtiia aaitohad, an I 

by any Ei^{iiah wiilar azoapl ShakinaaM. 

• nt of hk aeloia at aa fakil height* hia 

ia to tx aad anbo4y tham 

^•e; kag— ga of a pwiiatfoa aad 

>^;4a of MiBf ia aUovad to iaipatr 

•mpoee. ThaMaoHoaaathaawnhodkdiawetdaaait 

■' bla Lndor kavia alwajB aa ** aakad " aa poanbK 

"*-M of aaaidaBt aad aapaiisity. Ffphia- 

i iiaotkaa of aUaorta tha laadar baa to aappty 

r v« ftimhhii^i aolhuv ^ «^ 

I 3 

I U^k-ll UW 0»t1 

lie LANDOR. [chap. 

except wiat is to be inferred from the bare utterances of 
his speakers. At the same time we are aware that he has 
himself reaHzed the action of every scene Avith perfect 
clearness. These high-strung dramatic dialogues used to 
cost Landor in the composition both throes and tears. As 
in the Avriting of Count Julian long ago, so now in that 
of Tiberius and Vipsania, he tells us how he watched and 
wept over his Avork by night, and how every feature and 
gesture of his personages stood visibly present before his 
mind's eye. But as in Count Julian, so now, he fails 
occasionally to take the reader with him. AVant of in- 
stinctive sympathy with his reader is the weak point 
of Lander's lofty art, and in these dialogues he is so per- 
fectly sure of his own way that he sometimes forgets 
to put into our hands the clue which we need in order to 
follow him. But usually nothing more is necessary than 
a little attention, a little deliberateness in reading — and 
work so full and rich is to be read attentively and 
deliberately if at all — in order to make all clear. The 
speeches as they succeed one another then become to us at 
the same time both monuments of the emotions of the actors, 
and landmarks indicating the crisis which their actions 
have reached ; and we read between the lines how the heart- 
stricken Thetis has sunk through the embrace of Peleus ; 
how the maidens in the house of Xanthus shrank one behind 
another in inquisitive awe at the beauty of Ehodope, 
the stranger slave from Phrygia ; how Marius adventures 
and returns over blood and ashes within the walls of the 
beleaguered city of I^umantia; how Zenobia is hurled 
by her despairing Ehadamistus into the eddies of the 
Araxes ; how Godiva descends from her palfrey to kneel 
and pray when Leofric has sworn his cruel oath ; how 
Dante for the last time rests his fevered head upon the 


BuadMi boiQin of JkftUice ; Iww AaiM Bolijii iwoou al 
Um mloolMdUiMr Mittaaee of her lovd ; or how Um pakee 
dog k bttid Iqypiog m it USk Um blood of the nunw 
drred Czau*. — Or •oB^tBiai the incidenta are of aootber 
kind, and «• realiaa with amoiaMi^ how the tsim- 
rahla BoaMei bwtlet to pick op hk ring kat the ehild- 
aktowa of Lmiu XIV. ahooU stoop for it ; or how that 
tuooaidi hiiaadf kti slip by inadTertaaee into hk breadwa 
Um atiip of ailk which the aaae ptdate and 
e^JQiaed him to pkce next his skin bjr way of ] 
For wnag the diaksiMe of thk draiwlir gnwp aoiM an 
«'<Mriei wnt k^ tatiri<\bf" ^»*^ thoiWiiiipMBMiniT>f |akata 
and kings in a rein of Aristophank or Hibekiaisn ex- 

bcatworit, BMibb being not the moat aoitahk aatenal 
for earieatnie, nor wei^t and pcdiah its most appropnate 
atoslkTiM, In geoenl it may be truly said of Lender 
that he ikea or iUk aeeoiding to the M^ore of hk anbjeet, 
and k at hk best only in the higheet things* Especially 
is tlds trae in hk treatment of woaen. Both in the 
iJiyifaal and the qdritoal, Laador^e feeling for the ftad* 

Shakiqieere alone onee mora excepted, who aapiaBaa him 
in it. Hardly I^Bfdita or ImegSB tbcaMhee an made more 
beaatilbl to na Iqr worda than Landor*a maiden imege of 
Hope,—** har eoontamuMe waa tinged with so delieaie a 
i-olottr that it ap pea l e d an e iln s ne e of an imdialad dead 
pairing over ne in Um beemiis,'* or than hk Omsk 
IWymnk in her erowa of myitk : ** there was some- 
thing in the tint of the tsader ^naya iissmbling that of 
the hair they tafifrkd ; the bloanma too w«e vhila as 
hsr foiehead.* HenQy baegea agaia, haid|y Omdslia, 
hardly Desdcmoaa, are more nobly reeliaed typea of eoa* 

118 LANDOR. [chap. 

stancy and sweetness, of Avomanly heroism and womanly 
resignation, than are Landor's Joanof Arcorhis AnneBoleyn 
during the brief scenes in which they are brought before us. 
But there is one weak point in Landor's deaUng with women 
which must not be overlooked. When he comes down 
from these heights, and deals with the every-day timidities 
of young love and simplicities of girlish feeling, he some- 
times, it must be confessed, goes altogether astray, and 
strikes the note of false innocence and flirting "archness." 
His young women, including the Greek, are on these oc- 
casions apt to say " audacious ! " " you must be a very bold 
man ! " " j^ut me down ! " and generally to comport them- 
selves in a manner giggly, missish and disconcerting. 

To give the reader a just idea of landor's manner in 
this class of his Conversations, it would be desirable to set 
before him at least two examples, one to illustrate the 
extreme of his strength, the other of his delicacy, in 
dramatic imagination. Space failing for this, let us detach 
an example of an intermediate kind from a dialogue to 
which allusion has several times been made already, that of 
Leo/ric and Godiva, beginning at the point where the peti- 
tions of the tender-hearted bride begin to overbear her 
lord's obstinate resentment against his people. 

Leofric. We must hold solemn festivals. 

Godiva. We must indeed. 

Leofric. Well then ! 

Godiva. Is the clamorousness that succeeds the death of 
God's dumh creatures, are crowded halls, are slaughtered cattle, 
festivals ? Are maddenings songs and giddy dances, and hire- 
ling praises from party-coloured coats ^ Can the voice of a 
minstrel tell us better things of ourselves, than our own in- 
ternal one might tell us ^ or can his breath make our breath 
softer in sleep ? my beloved ! let everything be a joyance to 
us ; it will, if we will. Sad is the da}*, and worse must follow* 


with joj. Bat Ltoftie^ tW lufli fcaUTal b itiw* hj tW Mr* 
rant of Ood apon tka baart of nun. It ia glaiawa, it ia 
tlMakagiTiag. H ia tka erpkw. tka afaunraCaf pnat t* Um 
aad mtm aa ita liai rn««MiMil to iiiwtii ita 
WawakaUlUafMliTdi llw gwato an nM7 : 
«• a^f haap it «p far wadka aad Moatha aa4 jaan tafallMr, 
aad alwajs ba tba kappiir aad tW liahar ftr it Tka W fatag a 
oftkMfcMl, O LaoAiab ia awwiar thaa baa arlowarorviaacaa 
gira tw: it iava ftaa Wa? »a ; aa4 ia baa?aa wiB il agaia 
ba pmiad oat abaaJaaUj to bial^ vbo paan it oaC bwa 

XaVric noaart vild. 

O tii i v m. I kaf* ia d t ad laal ajaalf i tba voi^ or* aol aaiaa t 
I 9mfy Hal and usar taaak oaaM Jnaw* aaaaa gooot ktad 
Vmim smIIb mm (bo^ aa4 aoal aa4 voiaa) iaia laadaaaaH aad 
lova. O ay basbaad, «a aaal tktf it Look apoa «a ! look 
apaa aM ! lift agaia joar avaai ajaa fima tba groaad ! I wHI 

Xa^^'l^^ Wa artU tbiak apoa it 

QtJirm, O aarar aaj tkat voad ! tboaa wbo attar it ara fidaa 
maa. Wkat! tkiak ^ea gaad a aw wbaa j«a caa ba food I 
l4t aol tkair iafcali aiy fcr faod ! tka aotbar of oar binaad 
Latd w31 kaar tkaa t aa aavar aftaward. 

Lt^firie, Hara eoaaa tka b i ak ef t wa ara aaw bal «m alb 
fraa tka walk Wkj dfaaaaalaat tkoaP aa biakof aaa aafaal 
>u Oodha, ay koaoar aad raak aaaaf aaa ara baallid by 
tUa : Bail Oodvia «iU bear of it t apl apt tka biakoy kalk 
M«a il I ka amatk kia kana oavard : deal tkoa aot kaar kia 
now af«a tka aalid tarf bakiad tkaaP 

Ga^ira. Novar. aa^ aavar. will I riaa^ O LaofkK ■■13 yM 
rrout tkia aaol iaifieaa tai, tkia lax oa kard labear, •• laid 

Xai^Wa. T^aa laaadt laak kaa tka M 
tka laao af a rfaaar'a faala, dow 
Wkat maaa ar i%kt caa tka paoflo ka«« la 
tkair bii k f " b alaad ia m alaak nd waB 
tiaai to ckaMb daia ta abafiak obi 

120 LANDOR. [ciiap. 

shame ! they shall smart for it, idlers. Sir bishop, I must blush 
for my young bride. ^ 

Godiva. My husband, my husband ! will you pardon the 
city ? 

Leofric. 0, sir bishop ! I could not think you would have 
seen her in this plight. "Will I pardon ? yea, Godiva, by the 
liol}' rood, will I pardon the city, when thou ridest naked at 
noontide tbrough the streets. 

Godiva. my dear, cruel Leofric, where is the heart j'ou 
gave me ? It was not so ! Can mine have hardened it P 

Bishop. Earl, thou abashest thy spouse; she turneth pale 
and weepeth. Lady Godiva, peace be with thee. 

Godira. Thanks, holy man ! peace will be with me wben 
peace is with your city. Did j'ou hear my lord's hard word ? 

Bishop. I did, lady. 

Godiva. Will you remember it, and pray against it? 

Bishop, Wilt thou forget it ? 

Godiva. I am not offended. 

Bishop. Angel of peace and purity ! 

Godiva. But treasure it up in your heart. D^em it an in- 
cense ; good only when it is consumed and spent, ascending 
with prayer and sacrifice. And now what was it ? 

Bishop, Christ save us ! that he will pai'dou the city when 
thou ridest naked through the streets at noon. 

Godiva. Did he not swear an oath ^ 

Bishop. He sware by the holy rood. 

Godiva. My Redeemer I thou hast heard it ! save the city ! 

Leofric. We are upon the beginning of the pavement : these 
are the suburbs : let us think of feasting : we may pray after- 
ward : to-morrow we shall rest. 

Godiva, No judgments then to-mori'ow, Leofric? 

Leofric. None : we will carouse. 

Godiva, The saints of heaven have given me strength and 
confidence : my prayers are heard : the heart of my beloved is 
now softened. 

Leofric. Ay, ay. 

Godiva, Say, dearest Leofric, is there indeed no other hope, 
no other mediation ? 


nd turo mj &et away Htm Umv, aa4 aJl tb«a kacfw Wv» 
•aw k. Tlib adds to Um ehy'a crioM. 

OmU^m, I kart blaahad, too^ LeoAie, mad waa aoi nak Mr 

Ltqfirie. Battkoa. aj twaataal, ait fhraa to UaaUsf ; tlMrt 
b M ••■^Minf H ia tkia. I vlak tkoa luidai aoi ali||kt«d 
M kwtaly aad rai^Uj: it kath ikakaa dova a akeaf of tkj 
katrt taka kaad act to ait opoa it. Itat it aagaiak tkM. W«U 
daaa! it waglalk ao« awtcUj wiik tka dotk of pM apoa tka 
mUk, raaaiac kara aad tkcra, aa if it kad lifc aad bealtiaa 
aad wara woridag tkiwapoa aoaa aaara r aai 
daviea. O aiy kw a t a o ai Bra! tk«« ia a famfiM 

oa H. . . . I raaaat aaa ar tktak of eril wbera tkoa art. I 

»aald tkimr mj anaa avaa k«« aboat tkaa Mo rigaa far 

aM ! ao tkaktag of mwbcaau ! ae npniof or frown or aaadww 

■wat .... I tritl MJ it. . . aov tkaa for worte I 

voald flIoM with njr kiaaaa tky kalf npra lipa, aj, aad tboaa 
kywly aad lanaf ajaa, kafbra tka pMfla. 

CWnm. TWaMnmr yoa akall ki« mm, aad tkaj akaO klaH 
yaa far it I akaD ka vary pola, tm to-aifkt I aart Ch* aad 

Lt ^ 'ie. I do aot krar tkaa; tka voioM of tka falka ara ao 
t'^m aadcr tkii aiakvay. 

CWira (lokatadf). Ood kdp tka«! goad kiad aaab! I 
kopa tkay will aal awwd akaat aM ao to>aMrmw. O LaafrJa ! 
«e^ »y aaaa ko faigaHw ! aa 
Bal prkafa aiy fanoaMHo aaiy aai 
aad kov aMay aa iaaoaiBl aia ia fcaraad hmim I Ho «ya win 
opaa aa aa kat Aaak fraai laaiib Wkat a yoaag aiotkrr fcr 
•olargoa faailyl 8kall ^y yoatk katai at P UadarGod*a 
kaad it givaa aa aeaff^a. Ak, wkaa will tka aMraii^oaaaF 
ak. wkaa will tka aooa ka 9tmf 

Tba aiBMBd dMi of l4UidQ>^a dUnnti^ tbo dialocMi 
f ditmafaM aiid iijuilliii, aia botti ■ 
atkl iodiTidaally fcr tlw maiA part 

22 LANDOR. [chap. 

hose of which I have thus far spoken. Tliey also range 
over almost the whole field of history, and include several 
of the satiric kind, in which modern statesmen are 
generally the speakers. The description non-dramatic 
must not be taken too strictly, inasmuch as Landor often 
inti-oduces and concludes a purely discursive and reflective 
dialogue with passages of pleasant intercourse and play of 
feeling, and sometimes enlivens the whole course of the 
discussion with such accompaniments. Or again, he 
grasps and realizes in a way that may fairly be called 
dramatic, whether it coincides with our historical ideas or 
not, the character of this or that individual speaker. But 
at least as often either one of the speakers or botli are 
mere mouthpieces for the utterance of Landor's own 
thoughts and sentiments. He expressly Avarns his readers, 
indeed, against taking for his own any of the opinions 
put into the mouths of his personages ; but the reader 
familiar with Landor's other writings and with his corre- 
spondence will have no difficulty in recognizing where the 
living man expresses himself behind the historic mask. 
Thus we know that it is Landor hhuself who is con- 
tending for toleration and open-mindedness in matters of 
religious faith, alike in the person of Lucian and in that of 
Melanchthon ; for simplicity and integrity of thought and 
speech in those of Diogenes and of Epictetus. It is Landor 
who transports himself in imagination into the gardens 
of Epicui-us, and holds delightful converse Avith Leontion 
and Ternissa ; it is Landor who through the mouths of 
Anacreon and of the priest of Amnion rebukes the ambi- 
tion of Polycrates and of Alexander. Landor behind the 
mask of Andrew ^Marvel glorifies against the time-serving 
archbishop the great poet of the English republic, and 
Landor dictates the true policy of his country through the 


UfM ol Um Greek or Spankh ntclutiauuj Imdan, It is 
Um gnalvl tribnta to tlw SHige of kit powwi tad of kit 
kaowWgt tkat kt «oaU mdafi kit tkom^ lo to gmi o 
diwMlj of tgw and dumdon wiiboni loo olmoM • 
fa tft ilM o of TgiriaiHtnib in 007 gtvoB caao. 

Laadov^a wkola tnatmmA of Plato ia vary 
of kia way of tktakiiif aad voriung. Ha vooU 
BO aanwilkaii fawliet ui anlian aitkar of l il a uUw a ot 
lifc; aad trlMA ka kod esaaiMd aajr mmM 
MM Ika arocaa plaaaad if kafawKl UajodgManl 
eovalar lo Iko raaairad opokm. AUkon^ tkaowtinaHy 
ka dialikodaaddaa|Nnd|MnMloz,ka«wo8rtBia|]r**«all 
ooalMt»''aB Emom |Niteit» ' loiiqMaB kb Ei«liak wkia 
upo« ika fauratabla paatk" aad lo rafMkkmaMieBlgloiiaa 

«iDO«klof kiaowBooaalraolioii. AlFloi«aeakavaBl» 
rliiaa libnij, and nod Ika wkola vo^ of Flalo tkioagk 

oaidariag wkat tka woriu of Plato an, aad tkal Laador 
waa ky ao aaMa o paHbellj annmapiiakiil Qiaak 
aakobr, it ia aridaal Ikat kia laodai^ mmI koto baaa 
paifiiaetocy. Ihit it waa aaoofk to iaapiia kia witk a 
giaai i li rtii f , aad • rw Mfc l a w i k ia portioa of r i n at w i ii t , fo 
tkalillMlrioBaaalkflr. Lukkir waa aam Uiad logaaiai^ 
lot in tko gaaina of Plato ko aaw aad aolad little exeepi 
tka dawaaadii^likiiHiM Ho kio aawJMly enllirtad, 
apaHftvai tkifc iniMJo^ aaiaylaa of owtytkfa^ tkat 

iraotieaUy muaoaoaahla ia Fklo'a Tiawa of dtrU govwa. 
uxnli of amTlUm Ikil k ikalMlit ia 
eapHaw ia kii mh^i^ lad ■MUfaoM 
iaUadialioa. Ha kaa anda Pbto cat a %«n botk pi*. 
f a t itaa oadtid i ea l oai ia kia iataiuoBiau «ilkDi^M% 
wko kolBM ki« m atyla aad oa aMnli^ npow kia 
want of aia^lMty aad iadifMlMMk diiokiiiM al kiai 

124 LANDOR. [chap. 

whole artillery of wise and beautiful sa}'iugs in Landor's 
own finest manner, and even knocks out of his hand his 
especial weapons of poetical eloquence, outdoing him 
with a passage of splendid rhetoric on the nothingness 
and restlessness of human power as compared with the 
power of the gentlest of the elements, the air. I^either 
is Landor content with this discomfiture of Plato at 
the hands of his contemporary philosopher of the tub ; 
he returns to the charge where we should least have 
exjiected it, and in a dialogue of Lord Chatham with 
Lord Chesterfield makes the great statesman turn the 
conversation on ancient philosophy, and edify his visitor 
with an exj^osition of the faults and fallacies which he has 
found in Plato. This unexpectedness, which is yet not 
the same thing as j)aradox, this preference for, and habit 
of lighting on, the thing indidum ore alio, is an essential 
part of Landor's genius. 

To return to the general character of these Conversci' 
ilons, their Aveakness lies in Landor's inaptitude alike for 
close or sustained reasoning, and for stirring or rapid 
narrative ; his characters seldom attempt argument, and 
almost as often as they attempt story-telling, they fail. 
The true strength of the discursive Conversations 
resides in the extraordinary richness, the originality 
of the reflexions and meditative depth and insight 
scattered through them — reflexions generally clenched and 
illuminated by images, and adding the quality of beauty to 
the qualities of solid ingenuity or wisdom. Some of the 
dialogues are filled almost from beginning to end with 
such reflexions. In some they are few and far between. 
Sometimes they are set in a framework of graceful inci- 
dent, and amidst beautiful magnanimities and urbanities 
of intercourse ; sometimes thcj' have to be sought out 


tlwMfj^ ft mmm of nora or Imm tediooa di«|«iiiliiM% eon- 
fmed MModoles, *fv^ iKDmeotMfnl wtttietm*. Oeeanonally 
\juiAof ^»«mV ab olliorwin tdmi mbt ft dkUMRie of anii* 
qvtlj by intradtng into it • M W M ti c apologM sgUBil 
aooM o^joet of hk poUticdi «Tcnioii in Ibe modttu 
world. Oocawnmlly be wakm bit pw r rw i i ga t dieoMi 
wttb modi lUoMt and lotiiadtfty of qieeeb qm rtio M of 
l«anjag and of enrkmijr ibat can be int efe e tia g only to 
bisMKlf ; in a word be does that whicb be vaa eo keenly 
■enribb of Wotdawoiih'i mistake in aUowing bimeelf to 
>lo b e dronea. It ia a deawcal and froa tbe point of 
riew td atyle an exemplary fbrm of droniBg^ but it ia 
dfOQUig etUL To tbe lover of fine tbovgbto tbere ie not 
C4W of thiae dialogMB vbidi il ia not wortb bit wbile to 
read tbroqgb and tbioai^ in tbe mke of tbe jewda it 
•-ontaina "Bui tbere are not many wbieb, like tbe dia- 
lofMa of Diogenea and Plato^ <d tbe two Cieeroi^ of 
Marrd and Arcbbiibq* Pufcer, be can rHwmmend to tbe 
oidinaiily iatoUigent itader in tbe <wnfidance tbal be wiU 
not be firtigMd before tba end. It abooU be aaad, bow- 
• far, tbal tba appelito lor Landor alwaye gvowa witb tbe 
reading. Tba manaiwia of bia mind me eo rarioaa^ and 
the ridbea timemed np in tbem ao r«et> tbal if tbey eontain 
iomadulland mnely eooidma wa m^ wcD be eoatanl to 
tmverm thaee too wttb patianaa, Wben Landor ia good be 
iM ao admiiably and lo oijgiMdly good, ao foil of anMbii^ 
and mamiva fcrea on one pag% and of a d^eaqr wupnm 
ing tbal of Iba laa drn iat poali on aimtbar, tbat to know 
liim wall rapaya IwfoM wbaltvar boon of weannem bit 
weak plama eoit Ha nerer ampbaiimi or wf i arrt a i bia 
own giMd myingi, bol daitven bimaelf of bk bail ami of 
bia wool wttb tba mma w— p oa nt a aad iwmpiitanmi. 
Dofiag Ibeea aigbl yean of awldMd mMi o« tba wbola 

126 LAXDOR. [chap. 

victorious literary effort, the outward life of Landor had 
not failed to exhibit the usual contrasts between his 
doctrine and his practice. The author of the maxim 
" neither to give nor to take offence is sui-ely the best thing 
in life," had been taking and giving offence as superfluously 
as ever. AYe have already witnessed the bursting of two 
storms in the course of his relations Avith his publishers ; 
others had gathered nearer home. Landor had found or 
invented cause of dudgeon against members both of the 
English embassy and of the native magistrature at Florence. 
He had, it is said, challenged a secretary of legation for 
whistling in the street when ^Irs. Landor passed, and had 
written a formal complaint to the Foreign Office concerning 
the character of "the wretches they employed abroad." 
He had persuaded himself that he was a man marked out 
for petty persecution by the agents of authority both in 
Italy and England. He was on terms of permanent mis- 
understanding with the police. Some of the expressions 
and anecdotes concerning Florentine society which he had 
introduced into one of his first Conversations had been 
translated, and had further helped to plunge him in hot 
water. With his lofty standards of honour and veracity, 
of independence and decorum, he had indeed conceived a 
sovereign contempt for the character, if not of the Italian 
people in general, at any rate of the city population in 
the midst of which he lived. His arbitrary indignations 
and eccentricities made him seem to them on his part the 
most ideally mad of all mad Englishmen. His residence 
at the Medici palace was brought to an untimely end by 
a quarrel with his landlord, a marquis bearing the historic 
name of the house. Landor imagined that this marquis 
had unfairly seduced away his coachman, and wrote to 
complain accordingly. The next day the marquis came 

v.] urn AT PLOIIHOI. 1S7 

•IraMiiV wUh h» hut on ialo tiM room wImm Mn. 
LaaddrwatntltiigwithMaMTiaitetB. ** He hid •euMly,'* 
vritat <MM «t thmff ** advuMcd tluM il«|» from Ike door, 
wIm« Ludor wallrad vp to him qvieklj, umI kaodnd kk 
hal ofl^ Umb took him by the erm tad tvaed him ooi 
Yon ekoakl hoTo heuU Uodor^e akovt oT lm«hlar wi kk 
owB ■ n g w, when it wee ell <mt ; t u e atin g wfak e hfct kwgfaler, 
wkiekwmeorMooiddndel.'' InaMMJi oT Ikk kiad, 
however, were too fieqveat in Leadoi^ life It sAel him 
rfgy deeplj. Ub wnih nmully ezkeled itmlf eitker ia e 
itoCkNiiJiMaroreB ep^pem—if anytkiag eo eolid ee e 
imm^^f^,^ tHt*** **'*i**^'rHHM tir ^''•^'tf^ At 
worat e quenel woald Mmetimee give kirn ehflioveeMeek, 
or ^yiato tke irbmI il ol tfOatj to wkiok ke ked ky 
tkii tfam keeeme ed^feet. 

I >omMtte end eoeiel cwekitioiie were not weatiag to 
Ltador ia tkem dqr& Hie eoajvgd frlaHwrn iieiiliaaiil 
tn be fereoiM time eadnmkKifferftem ideal; wkOe ia 
kii ekQdvHi, tke fooitk end leet of wkom wee bora in 
!<», ke took e enaeteatlj iaewerii^ dei%kt. Heh»Ted 
ead nk ifiik III tkem witk a pamioMK akaoii ea aaimel- 
iiitearitjoreibetfam. Ia their femm BeUe wae oae el 
dm moot gleeral aad tke meet riolew ef pier 
HeeooUaolkeer to ke paitedfeem tkem, mid 
went laJf kedde kimedfwitk eudetj wkea daiiiV e Writ 
to Keplm ke keeid tkat eome oT tkem were dowa witk e 
eUkHik iOame. Ia kie leltem Id Me eielma ead kie 
motkcr el kMM^ ke made tkoM kiadljr kearte tke pmtiBi- 
pelomiakfcn»eiwlalde%klfc TUe kerne eoneqMmdmwe 
efle ade t'b a eim a ^ g e ddaiii^ kii m otkm ^ lifc. Hewnle 
to ker ekaat kb dniaci ead eboat tke ddldna, ead eke 
lepBed frma Warwiik or Ipelej witk eU tka foarip or tke 
eeaatj. Kaowfag kie etenioa fer k«iam% ake did aol 

128 LANDOE. [chap. 

trouble him much Avith details of his property or accounts, 
but was full of plans for his future aifd that of his 
children. She hoped that when she Avas gone he would 
come home and settle down to the life of an English 
country gentleman, and that he would get as much 
enjoyment out of Ipsley as she had herself got all her life. 
She hoped, and it was Landor's error and misfortune in 
this to have neglected her advice, that he would send his 
sons home to England to be educated. His bent towards 
literature Landor had not indeed, like many men of genius, 
derived from his mother. She looked upon his exertions in 
this kind with a vague respect not unmingled with alarm. 
In thanking him for a copy of his Latin poetry which he 
had sent her, she had said it was pronounced by the learned 
to be very delightful, " but one cannot read it, to under- 
stand it, oneself." And now, when she heard of the 
Imaginary Conversations, she only hoped he was not injur- 
ing his health by too much work. "For God's sake do 
not hurt your eyes, nor rack your brains too much, to 
amuse the world by writing. Eut take care of your 
health, which will be of greater use to your family." 

To his other occupations Landor began to add soon 
after his arrival at Florence that of a picture collector. 
He formed his own taste and his own opinions in con- 
noisseurship as in other things, and acted on them with 
his usual confidence and precipitancy. He anticipated 
the modern predilection for the pre-Kaphaelite masters, 
whose pictures were then in no demand. Of the works of 
these and other schools an almost incredible number, some 
good, but according to skilled evidence the greater part 
bad or indifferent, jjassed through Landor's hands in the 
course of the next fifteen years. He liked the rooms in 
which he lived to be denuded of nearly all furniture 


. with wbkh tlMir waUt wem eomtd from 
liing. He ww « giwt girw, «ik1 find, Mfieklljr 

.... . jmn, of Madiag vnj a gOMi Um ndker fer a 
token in Um ahiiia of a piotara fton liia walk. Alwajs 
(Usinclincd to (BMial aodtly, and partaooladty to oOdal 
toeieij, h« ftmnd in Flotanoa aa nradi eoanpaidoMUp aa 
ha deaimd of tha aoci tliat aaitad him beat Aaong tlw 
riaidaita, hk ehiaf aModataa wava Hr. SayoKmr Kiikiip, 
thaM and fiir half a eantmy aftarwaida a eaatial flgvia of 
the Eaglidi oolony in the city ; Chariea Annitaga Kown, 
tha friand aad aoniada of Kaala; and a Mc Laekiab 
whoia ooimiaBj ia aaid to hava bean iMiia joyooa Ihaa 
d ac o t oua , and bmn« wdeooM to Laador than to hia wifa. 
Fia^HJi Hiaia^too^waoftaniBglownea,aadwhenha and 
Laador vara logathar, tha aawwnitar of wita lan hjgh. 
Both were mm <rf amaii^g kaowladga and aaiaring 
maaaoiy ; thair aalf'OonMaaea waa abovt aqvaL laador 
WM ia iaicieonaa of thk Uad tha mora uhaaa aad for> 
bearing of tha two^ Hara tha man o f a ip owa Uutf y htflliaat 
aad ia i p et i oat. Thajdi8|Nitadollaa,balaavarq[Qaiia0ad; 
aadMMiaadidthfhlfHaadatotliahMi. laador^ lall«a 
to Haia daiiag Ua ahaeaea are aa IkiU aa thoaa to Sottth^ 
of tha variid aallar of hia thoi^ti^ aal farth ia hia 
eMq|ilifl^ diaaonMelad way, aad oflaa ooalaiaiM ganaa 
which wa lad d affa l o | >ad ia tha CbacaraalMM of tha tioM 

AAar tha aypaamaea of tha irA two TotaaMa of hia 
Om m n aii tm Laador waa hahHaaPy aoqghloQl,aaaMMi 
of aokaowladgid gaaioa aad ha^ by tha awra diitia- 
gaiahadofthaEi^iMiwhocaaMtoFlotaaea. Haaaldoai 
aaaiylad diaaaia or olhar iaYttatioM^ bat aaorivid ia' hia 
own hoaaa thoaa Tiriton who brought hha ialiadaaH—i , 
Oaaday Hog8» thaMaadaf 8hailay» waaasMaMdlwyia 
HarewaarftHagiatherooaL Uadotwid tlwIhaMl UmnV 

130 LANDOR. [chap. 

like La Fontaine with all the better company of the beasts 
about him. Hogg was delighted with his interview, and 
wrote afterwards that if he wished to procure any one for 
whom he cared a real benefit, it would be the friendship 
of Walter Savage Lander. In 1825 came Leigh Hunt. 
In his short-lived paper, the Liberal, Byron's Vision of 
Judgment with its preface had been published three years 
before, but he had lately made his amende, as he tells 
us, to Landor, with whom he was always thenceforward 
on good terms. 

Soon afterwards came Hazlitt ; who brought no introduc- 
tion, but said he would beard the lion in his den, " and 
walked up to his house," says Mr. Kirkup, '* one winter's 
morning in nankeen shorts and white stockings, was made 
much of by the royal animal, and often returned at night, for 
Landor was much out in the day, in all weathers." Of their 
conversations one is recorded in which Hazlitt expounded 
to his breathless and, as it seemed, envious host, the simple 
process by which, under the Scotch law, he had been 
enabled to get himself divorced by consent from his wife ; 
and another in which, on Landor saying that he had never 
seen Wordsworth, Hazlitt asked, " But you have seen a 
horse, I suppose?" and being answered yes, continued, 
" Well, sir, if you have seen a horse, I mean his head, sir, 
you may say you have seen Wordsworth, sir." But the 
visitors Avith whom Landor formed at this time the closest 
and most permanent friendship were not Hunt or Hazlitt, 
but the Irish nobleman who, with his gifted wife and 
the French Apollo who had lately attached himself to 
their household, was making at this time his memorable 
Italian tour. Lord Blessington had been known long ago 
to Landor as Lord Mountjoy, and when he came to 
Florence made haste to renew their acquaintance. In his 

T.] LirB AT FLORENCE. 131 

wif«, Um iwciiMiting daa|^t«rof a ruffianly Iriah •qaintn, 
naniad al IbiiHaan to a mflbnly EagHah oflker» asd 
again, afW aoma jaaia of widowhood, to thia amiahlft, 
eoItiTatad, •omplnoaa, gooty, refonned roue ot an Iriih 

appcadatiTa and moal nnnalint of ftiaada. Of all tha 
cakhriiiea of bar acqoaintanea, and that meana of all who 
wara living in har day, Laador waa tha ooa lor whom aha 
u w Koi Ta d fkom tha fint, and ntaiaad natQ har daath, the 
wawwat attadbawnt and roqiaet. 8ba thon^t him tha 
■mmI ganninaly poliia man in Emopa, and it waa a point 
upon whidi aha had a right to ^Mak. With Lord Bkariog- 
Um and Count D'Ormy Landor haeana almoai aa ftat 
fiiaada aa with my Lady, and ha apaat moai of tha 
araningi of ooa whole asaunar, and two a weak <tf tha 
next, in the enjoyment of their aoetaty in the baantafol 
Caaa Pelom, tlM villa which they ooeapied on the Long* 
Arno. In 1837 the M ea rin gtona pawnadeil him to join 
them in ayaehtiag trip to Naplea ; bat ai on a iotmrntrif 
with Hare to Bomfl^ ao again now Laadot'a iilwun waa 
mancd by hta farariah anxiety on aeeoimt of hb duUrw. 
It WM OB tha former of thaaa «q|«ditioM thai Laador had 
rtaaind the ftc4 ehOdiah kikr Ihmi hie aon Axnokl^ aiiJ 
had ended hie own anawar with the word*,— 

lakaDaawar b« fdlah^ff aalQ I ma yea again aad pal 
my chaA apon year hmd. Ml my >wMt JaKa, that if I m* 
tvratj liitU gtrk I vill aat mmp with aay of tham Wfaa I 
roBp «tUi bcr, tad kiM yaar two dear b r otfct w Cor ma. Ton 
araat alwrny* lora thma as amch m I lore yoa, and yoa mmO, 
teaeh th«a bow to be gaed boya, which I aMmol da m wrO •• 
yea aaa. Ood ft m uf aad UaM yoa, ay awa AiaoH. 3ly 
bmiibmAawifilwaddfy tayaa,aqrewni«aaarmftanc We 
■y man amtt ; baa yaar Baaao. 

lu 1^27 thma cama to tha YHli flmUglioM 

K S 

132 LANDOE. [ch. v. 

visitor, with whom Landor formed an immediate friend- 
ship. This was Mr. Ablett of Llandbedr, a Welsh 
gentleman of fortune and literary tastes, who conceived 
an enthusiasm for Landor's genius and his person, com- 
m.issioned a bust of him by Gibson, and a year afterwards, 
Landor being then looking out for a new place of abode, and 
desiring one in the country near Florence, came forward 
to furnish him the means of securing for himself a home 
that seemed the ideal of his dreams. This was the Villa 
Gherardesca, a fine and ancient house, surrounded with a 
considerable extent of farm and garden, on a height a little 
below Fiesole, to the right hand of the road ascending to 
that city from Florence. By the beauty of its prospect 
and the charm of its associations, this site was for Landor 
the choicest that could be found. His favourite of all 
Italian authors, his favourite, indeed, of all in the world 
after Shakspeare, Milton, and the ancients, was Boccaccio. 
The Yalley of Ladies, described in the most enchanting 
passage of the Decameron, lies within the grounds of the 
Villa Gherardesca, and the twin streams of Affrico and 
Mensola, celebrated in the Ninfale, run through them. 
The price of this enviable property so far exceeded any 
means immediately at Landor's disposal, that he had never 
even thought of becoming its purchaser. But Mr. Ablett 
insisted on advancing the required amount. He would 
take no interest, and Landor was after some years able to 
repay the capital of the loan out of the yearly savings on 
his income. It Avas in 1829 that he removed with his 
family into their new home. 

nnou Avo BroLA2ri>~TRB BXAMiXATiox or BHAUnUU 


{1829—1837 ^ 

Thb jmn tfuai hj lAndor in his Tills st Fisiole ssen 
•o Um wbolttohsTs bMntiM hsppicst inUsIifik Hk 
cbildraB wwe not yet of the age wlien tlte joy which 
chikfami sirs sitlMr esMcs or is twa rfw i l ; tbej vara 
stiU his n pUu on d j Isred plsyvMtss ; sad the tarn sad 
gsrdsM of the rills ro«de the rsnst of plsygrottods. 
Fslher sad ehildisa sUke fooad sadkss oec«pstiao snd 
psslias ia delriag, pIsBtimb desriag, jsnisaia^ sad the 
kespiag of psiiL For the fint tine Maes hs weal shsosd 
Laadet's lore of saiflula had aow ftUl pisy. IliaidM ths 
gisslhoasedqgFuigi, wshssrof the esl Ciaoiallo^ sad 
the diflleulty of ksspiaf hia Ikooi the birds; of s tsaM 
^nsitea, for whom whsa hs died his msrtir eoaipossd s 
:csliaf epitsiih; s Isim IsrsMl^sad sU nuasr of other 
)«liL Ths pbee wss ss hssatifid sad ftrlils m it was 
rich in ss wcistioa a. From smid ths eloads of oliTs sad 
i4iea of eypress withia hk |stei^ Lsador loved to look 
Oowa to ri^ sad Isfl sloi« ths swssp of VsldsoKv <» 
awsy towsvds ths diilsBl woods of VsUtashMMs, or ths 
miety litres shoTS Aictao ; hs loTsd st wiisit to wstch 

134 LANDOR. [chap. 

all the hills of Tuscany turning to amethyst heneath 
those skies of pearl. 

Let me sit down and muse by thee 
Awhile, aerial Fiesole, 

he wrote ; and even while he found his new home the 
best, his thoughts went hack with affection to that which 
he had left in Wales. 

Llanthony ! an nngenial clime. 
And the broad wing of restless Time, 
Have rudely swept thy mossy walls 
And rooked thy abbots in their palls. 
I loved thee by thy streams of yore. 
By distant streams I love thee more. 

To his friend Francis Hare, who had married not long 
before, Landor writes : — 

.... Did I tell you I have bought a place in the country, 
near Fiesole ? I shall say no more about it to you, but try 
whether Mrs. H. will not bring you to see it in the spring. 

Deae Mes. Habe, — Do then conduct j'our slave, of whom I 
dare saj' you are prouder than ever Zenobia would have been if 
she had taken Aurelian, back again to Florence. — No, not to Flo- 
rence, but to Fiesole. Be it known, I am master of the very 
place to which the greatest genius of Ital}', or the Continent, 
conducted those ladies who told such pleasant tales in the warm 
weather, and the very scene of his Kinfale. Poor Affrico, for 
some misconduct, has been confined within stone walls. There 
no longer is lake or river, but a little canal. The place, how- 
ever, is very delightful, and I have grapes, figs, and a nightin- 
gale — all at your service, but you cannot be treated with all on 
the same day. 

To his sisters Landor writes with more detail and more 
enthusiasm. He tells the whole story of ]Mr. Ablett's 
unexpected kindness. " It is true his fortune is very 
large ; but if others equal him in fortune, no human being 


«rm mptSkd him in generosttj." Ludor fow oa to 
JiHrilw the hooM^ Uw iht tad ■twinfit of th> ioobm, 
Um yinn, Um two gvdn^ oao whh » loaiitaia, Um 
cooMnmtoiiot for kmona aad onnget. Ho folk too of 
tlM tjiwMWi^ riam, warn, aibataMt, baya, aad F^oodi 
fhttt-tnw wbiek ho it pbnting ; <^ tho wliolaMNnaMn of 
Um nO and cUmata. ** I hara tho baat watar, tha baoi 
air, and tha baai oQ in tiM vodd. My eoantvj now ia 
luljr, whan I hnTa n laaUanea for Hh, and Utanlly mmj 
•it ondar my own Tino and my own llg-tna. I bnva 
aoma thooaanda of tlm oaaaad aoam aooiaaof tha nthar, 
with myrtlaa, poaagnaalaa* gigiaa^ tad mfninaia in gnat 
quantity. I intaad to maka a garden not Tcty uKko 
yovB at Warwiek ; bat a]aa ! tima la waalini^ I tmj 
Uto aaothar tan yaaiai but do aol axpael it la a fofw 
daya, whaoavar tha waathar will allow it, I hava foor 
mimnaaa laady to plnaa loaad my toab^ and a ftioMi a^ 
ia eoadng to pbal than." Tho ftiaad hara la niiaalioii 
ia no othar thaa Laador^a old lora lanth^, who to hia 
dalii^ had reappaared aboat thia tima ia Fkiaoea. Bar 
Siilhaabaadhaddlwiwithiaayaarof Laadoi^owa ill> 
alBiiad BMin«a. Hho KmI aow lataty bariad har aaeoad, 
aad waa tha ot^ael of tha addnaaea at tha aaaw tima of a 
FieaehdakaaadaaEi«ifahaatl; aaithar of whieh warn 
allim a i a ly aeaaplad. Thaaoanaof harowaand Landoi'a 
Ufaa bvoaght tham aenaa oaa aaoCharla |>ath ooea aad 
again bafoaa hm daatk Thoaa who aaw tham la aom- 
paay hanra daaaribad tha taadar aad aaridaoa 
whidi amrirad hia baaiing to her abova aU othar ' 
aad hia aParfoaa to bar in proaa aad Tcna ahow that aha 
aavtr oaaaad to ba tha idaal of hia invaid thoaghta 

Tha latlar Jaat qaotod waa written on Xaw Taar'a Day, 
1890. A few waaka bafota^ Lamior had kot hia 

136 LAXDOR. [chap. 

That kind, just, and in her own way most shrewd and 
capable old lady, had been failing since the spring of 1829, 
and had died in October at the close of her eighty-fifth 
year. " My mother's great kindness to me," writes Landor 
" throughout the whole course of her life made me per- 
^ petually think of her Avith the tenderest love. I am not 
sorry that she left me some token of her regard ; but she 
gave me too many in her lifetime for me to think of 
taking anj now." So Landor asks his sisters to keep 
the little legacies wliich his mother had left him. What 
is more, he insists on their continuing to have the enjoy- 
ment of Ipsley, and declines to allow the place to be let 
or its contents to be sold for his own benefit. For the 
rest, the tenor of Landor's life was little changed. His 
thoughts Avere as much his companions as ever. He was 
to be met at all seasons rambling alone, in old clothes and 
battered straw hat, upon the heights round Fiesole, and 
audibly, like AVordsworth " booing " about the hills of 
Cumberland, repeating to himself the masterpieces that 
he loved, or trying and balancing the clauses and periods 
of his own stately prose. He was constantly adding to 
and filling out his Imaginary Conversations. One or two 
pieces which he had first conceived in this form grew during 
tliose Fiesolan days, as we shall see by-and-by, to the pro- 
portions of indeiiendent books. But the first book which 
Landor published after he came to Fiesole was one not 
of prose conversations, but of jioetry. He had been long 
iirged by Francis Hare to bring out a revised selection from 
his early poems, which at present only existed in volumes 
so rare that it was almost impossible any longer to pro- 
cure them. After some years of hesitation the project 
was at last carried out, and the result appeared in 1831, 
in the shape of a volume dedicated to Hare himself, and 


vtprinU of Gthir^ of Cown/ JtJitm, of 
cboaao fkon Um iSiMowicIra and other Miiitr eol« 
kelaooii bwiiiM a Cnr tMny wUdi wwv ihnr prialad Ibr 
Um tnl Umm, Tnm OMr, m wow toad aflenraidt fspab* 
lidMd, Lndor eat oot all ptiwuM implying pruM of 
BaoMfaito or of ravolilmMiy Ftamet. Folk»wing Cbwil 
/■Km, bt prinlMl thrw diUMlfe ft^^MDli of wkieh Im 
kid MOt tlM nuunneript to SoQtbey ftom Pim tan ywis 
before ; two on tiM ^Makh Ml^eet of Inea do Cattio and 
Kn Tolru; oub, muim tiM titla fypoKlo di Ktlt^ con- 
taining aooM weofaiad or rrwiittan fiaga c n ta of tho 
'ngtdy \maA long ago at IJanthooj. Than foUowad tha 
^alaadie tala of Ommku^ fboa Uw aoOaetion of 1806. 
li a t waon IIm lora-fkeM and tha akgiai talaelad tnm tha 
SJmemidm mmm a »nnbar of wiw a llan ao M poaaM^ aosM 
old and aooM new. Landor dMwad thatkiawmli^paiMt 
Ilia Wakk paiaaentoia Wd not avan yat anbaidad by 
printing a long and kbooiad aat of Hndibiaatka writtan 
•t the tiflM agaimt tha adram eoonad Tiuutfon. 
Mneh baltv to laMl, paiha|M indaad tha baat of all 
l^ukloi^a ihort poonM in tha qnality of dalibemla, daHaata, 
nwditatira ilaawriptfam, ia tha # 1— f an /<ly/, fkom which 
wa hava ahaady qnolad tha adwiiaWa Unaa niating to 
tha lota of flovon. 

All naturally waa not idyUic, nor all paaraabia, in 
'^ndar^aawlila. Having hi«iohhad of aoaaplita at tha 

laa whan ha waa taklag poMHrfoB of hia riUa, ha appliad 
tha poliei^ aaanrii« than at tha aanM tiM of hia 


>« qnarnl T«iy aoon laaehadanehapiteh that Lapdor WM 
rdand to laata Tnacany, and did aatnaHy latiaat aa far 
Uanea ha wiota a iaa conrtMW iHtar to tha 

138 LANDOR. [chap. 

Grand Duke in person, who took the whole matter 
pleasantly ; and Lord Normanby, Sir Robert Lawley, and 
other friends interceding, the order of expulsion was 
tacitly regarded as a dead letter, and Landor came back 
in triumph. Very soon afterwards he was deep in a 
quarrel with a French neighbour of his own at Fiesole, a 
M. Antoir, living on a property of which the tenant had 
a customary right to the surplus water from the fountain 
of the Villa Gherardesca. The watering of Landor's flowers 
and shrubberies, and the English prodigality of the family 
in the matter of bathing, and the washing of stables, ken- 
nels, and cages, reduced this surplus to practically nothing. 
Hence a grievance, of course passionately resented. A 
duel between the disputants having been averted by 
the wisdom of ]\Ir. Kirkup, "whom Landor had chosen to be 
his second, there ensued a litigation which lasted for 
years ; the case being tried and retried in all the courts of 
Tuscany. ' 

But these combative and explosive aspects of Landor's 
nature were much more rarely revealed in ordinary social 
intercourse than of old. The impression which he made 
during these years upon his favoured guests and visitors 
was one of noble geniality as weU as of imposing force. 
A new, close, and joyous friendship formed by him 
in these days, and never dropped afterwards, Avas 
with Mr. Kenyon, the friend also of the Hares and 
of many of the most distinguished men of the next 
succeeding generation. He had during a part of his life 
at Fiesole a pleasant neighbour in the novelist G. P. R. 
James, to whom he afterwards made allusion as " my 

• The pleas brought forward on Landor's side, before the court 
of final appeal, constitute a stout quarto pamphlet, in a hundred 
and twelve numbered paragraphs, dated 1841. 

Tu] FIB8QLI A2n> DCOLAN'D. 1» 

beuty T017 frwnd, Mr. JaaMU, whoM Marjf of D m r fm i p 
Scott hiiBMlf (were he ennoos) might here enried.* 
Theft aelow tad opeo-niiided eoltirmior of men of geniM^ 
Cnhbe Bohineoa, ebeedy fkinilier with Soothey end 
Woideworthf ceme to Florenee in the tttmrner of 1830, 
and pneented himMlf immedietely eft the Yille Ghe«e^ 
deeee. *• To Undoi^t •odefty." writee Sohineon, " I owed 
moeh of ny higheefte^joyBMoft during my rtey eft Florenee. 
He wee e men of florid oomphnrion, with leife^ foil eyce, 
eHogefther e ' leonine ' men, end with e flereenem of tone 
w«U lotted to hie neme; hie deeietone heiag wmft d mit, 
end on en ealqeefci, whether of teeto or life, nnq ne Wfcd ; 
eeeh ilendinc far iteeU; not eering whether ift wee in 
hetmooy with whet hed gone before or would follow fVom 
the mme oreeakr lipe. He wee ooneeioae of hie own 
..tfirnity of temper, end told me he eew few penone, 
beeeaee he could not beer oontmdietfon. Certeinly, I 
f leqoently did contredirt him ; yet hie eftlentkae to me, 
both thie end the Mlowing yeer, were nnweeried.'* He 
t«Ib tleewhere how Ludor tmed to inirito him to hie 
Tille eonetently of ereniBg^ end lend him hedc elweye eft 
nighl wider reeoft of the diag Fkrigi, who nadentood hie 
doty pcrfcetly, end would ettend the vieitor ee br ee the 
rity gyei^ end duly rrtnra by himeelf to the viDe. 
ICobineonV eeeoont ii fuiher vehmhie ee meking ne 
reelimthe mingled reraedi emMtmmdii ud eelanirinMBfti 
with whidi Leador wm Wf M ded by hie ItaHen aeigh- 
boon end workpeople. ** 7VI#i gClmglm mmo^mo, ma 
</Miiajm /"—eath, ecwtding to enotlmr wltn iw ^ wee the 
MOtinee in which tiMirimpnmioaewweevamednp. Hie 
lieeannete deeliage with hie feOowoeraeftarm end hb 
for the iaeaimete thtafi of aeftare were ia like 
typifled in the loeelhfead which l e pi ee gnled him 

140 LANDOR. [chap. 

as having once thrown his cook out of windov/, and 
instantly afterwards thrust out his head with the excla- 
mation, " Good God, I forgot the violets." 

In the early summer of 1832, at the urgent request ot 
Mr. Ablett and of other friends, Landor left Fiesole on a 
visit to England. It was the first time he had been in 
his native country for eighteen years. * His stay seems to 
have given almost unmixed pleasure both to himself and 
to those Avith whom he was brought in contact. He 
found his friend Madame de Molande at Brighton, " in 
the midst of music, dancing, and fashionable people 
turned radicals. This amused me highly." The excite- 
ment concerning the passing of the reform bill was at 
that moment at its height : *' The people are half mad 
about the king and the Tories." On a flying passage 
through London Landor was hospitably entertained by 
the friendly Robinson, who took him to see Flaxman one 
day, Charles Lamb another, and Coleridge a third. In 
his praise of Flaxman, the one living Englishman who 
shared, although not his scliolarship, his natural affinity 
with the genius of Greece, Landor seemed to his com- 
panion wildly enthusiastic. AYith Lamb, whose life was 
then drawing to its close, and with his sister, Landor was 
no less delighted. INot so with Coleridge, although that 
philosopher put on a new suit of clothes in his honour, 
and made him as many pretty speeches as if he had been 
a young girl ; but his talk was all about himself, and he 
displeased Landor by taking no notice of an enthusiastic 
mention of Southey. He next went to make at last the 
personal acquaintance of Juhus Hare at Cambridge. It 
must have been at this time that Hare persuaded Landor 
to become a contributor to the Philological Mnseiim, a 
periodical lately founded by himself and some other 


•<hoUi«. In it Landor paUishad in thk ymt 

lodixv thift aham- 
hieb wmAkm bM 
alrwdy btM mmim abore (p. 10) N-ear fDHoved 

in tb« MOM jouml <nm <d Um lUtQUeAi and nK»i Urmm^ 
iad of Ijuidot't rlMwcul dklogOM^ in vhioh Sdpb m . 
femd eonrenii^ with Fuueiina uid Polybiot bend« the 
ndMorCuthiVt. Tho i l t iM gt hofBo— ladUwcultare 
of QtMn irt c^lebwted with oqiul ekqaanet, aad a tik, 
raah M Luidor lored, of poriknuly doUghtlbl oosTono 
Iwlwoiu ta ohkrij philooophtr umI a bwotifBl girl, it 
told in hio poenHor Tain of door and oaptiraluig Grade 
gnwa, of %rm ap p n op ii ata but netw f o t iaea a or tenHiar 
imacwj. Luidor neror long i— aMbuwid any of Uo own 
wiittagi alter ba had tniahad thom, and it is to be 
Nfiftlad thai ha has wmkiiiij tha originality of this 
adwtiabh oon f waalio n bynneonaoionaly inbodocing into it 
aehoat and lapatftioi both froaa that of Epieorai and 

Tnm Gambridga Laador want to aaa hk aMiais at 

Warwidc, and thanes to tlaj with hiabanofcelor Abktt» at 

hia bMHrtitel honM of Uanbadr. Tha twoMiadivwton 

liylhar to pny lyii« vkila lo Sonlhay aad Warianailh 

at tha lakaa. Upon 8onthey tha ivnawal <^ piiiwnal 

ijvmm with Undor laA an iapraarioa ahagalharda- 

igMM, bnt in tha inlaraouaa of Landor with Woida- 

worth tha aaada aaaa ahaady to bata bean aovn of that 

dnaiga of faatiag on Landor'a part whkh wa ahaU haTalo 

noHaa by-aad4iy. For ttw piwil» hofwarar, thair oona- 

iponilirw with and laH"^« aaaeamhigoaa anothar ooa. 

tiaaad to ba aa ooidial aa avw; Towaada tha aad af 

^aptaMbar IjHdor waa back Main in I/wf l fltii 

ItiOalyaflerwardahaartoatonlda way I 

142 LANDOE. [chap. 

by Julias Hare and another companion from Cambridge. 
This was ^fr. "Worsley, the present master of Downing, 
The three travelled by Belgium and the field of Waterloo, 
"an ugly table for an ugly game," as Landor calls it, 
and then up the Khine. At Bonn Landor met W. Schlegel, 
and the aged poet and patriot Arndt. Of Schlegel he 
writes to Crabbe Robinson, " He resembles a little pot- 
bellied pony tricked out Avith stars, buckles, and ribbons, 
looking askance, from his ring and halter in the market, 
for an apple from one, a morsel of bread from another, a 
fig of ginger from a third, and a pat from everybod}'." 
His interview with the honest Arndt the next day had, 
however, ** settled the bile this coxcomb of the bazaar 
had excited." In one of the very last pieces of verse 
Landor ever Avrote I find him recalling Avith pleasure hoAv 
he and Arndt had talked together in Latin thirty years 
before in the poet's orchard ; hoAV they had chanced to 
hear a song of Arndt's OAvn sung by the people in the 
toAvn beloAV ; and hoAV nimbly the old poet had run and 
picked up an apple to give his guest, Avho had kept the 
pips and planted them in his garden at Fiesole. At 
Lmsbruck Landor busied himself with seeking for 
memorials of the Tyrolese patriot Hofer, who had ahvays 
been one of his favourite heroes. Travelling by the 
Tyrol to Venice, he sent home from that city for publica- 
tion an account of what he had learnt, together Avith 
incidental observations on Waterloo and Napoleon, on 
liberty and Venice, Avhich is one of his most striking 
pieces of high plain prose, at once impassioned and 
austere. By the beginning of 1833 Landor was back 
again among his children, his pet animals, and his 
pictures at Fiesole. He composed in memory of his 
visit to England three several odes ; one to Ablett, in 


wkieh 1m eovpM Sovlhay and Wotdtworth togiAhv 
:i UMlinet, — 

Omw tr wio w allmmahal Uufi,' — 

•ad Um oUmt two addnnad nqMetirdy to Soathcj and 
Wordawortli tbaniaalvaa. Thaaa odaa eootain aa high- 

itcbad Ijikal wiitii^ ai Laador cvw attomptad. Each 
of thaoi haa ito fina linaa and iU falidtka, bat none of 
than ia feUdtooB or azoaUant all thiongh. Laador k in 

Ilk kind of writing aingulariy nnaqaal, ataitiag oltan 
with a iaa thought and a nobia Brariaal moTaoiaat» aad 
fl^gii^ aad haltii^ within a few Haaa. Tha oda to 
Wocdawoith begina with a weU-tomed confaMJon of 
I.aador*« own eompMatJTa amatamahip ia tha ait of 
I*oetfy i ita eantial pcntion ia aoaawhat ohaema ; after> 
warda it feUa into the lightar critical or coUoqnial Tain 
of Taraa ia which Laador waa gaaanlly h^pj» and 
aada with (ma of tha aaataot aad at tha aama tima Boblaat 
of eomplim«nt». 

W« faoUi hava ma </«r half tha qpo* 
UaMfcr BMrtakT earthly laaat 

1 Tha ai%iMl vaariM of lUa Oi« I* JftMl «m paUMai fai 
Uigh Baat'a lm d »m Jtmtml, Jhmmhm 9, tUL Tha Vrnm 
qwlad hi tha taal vara pfaeHM by nlhan allaihg to Iha daalh 

" Cal«ii%a halh locii Ha aha^ ar hathas ia hli« 
AaM^ tha ifirila thai tela po«ar Kha his. 
Ia a mHmd varaM «ot a waak ar law hkm la Baathty, thaH 
Uaaa ai« flhaafad la 

* Cu hri%ii hi4h h«u4 tha oil. Mid halhM ia Wiai 
Aanv tha ipiriia tha ha«a pavar Mha hik* 

144 LANDOR. [chap. 

We both have crost life's fervid line, 
And othei' stars before us shine : ^ 
May they be bright and prosperous 
As those that have been stars for us ! 
Our course by Milton's light was sped, 
And Shakspeare shining overhead : 
Chatting on deck was Dryden too, 
The Bacon of the rhyming crew ; 
None ever crost our mystic sea 
More richly stored with thought than he ; 
Tho' never tender nor sublime, 
He wrestles with and conquers Time. 
To learn my lore on Chaucer's knee 
I left much prouder company j 
Thee gentle Spenser fondly led, 
But me he mostly sent to bed. 

I wish them every joy above 

That highly blessed spirits prove, 

Save one : and that too shall be theirs. 

But after many rolling years, 

When 'mid their light thy light appears. 

A far more faultless and more distinguished example of 
Landor's verse, and one not less characteristic than those 
last quoted of his warm and generous appreciation of 
the works and characters of his brother writers, is the 
elegiac address to Mary Lamb on the death of her brother, 
which ho wrote immediately upon hearing the news of that 
death in 1834. 

Comfort thee, thou mourner, yet awhile ! 

Again shall Elia's smile 
Refresh thy heart, where heart can ache no more. 

What is it we deplore ? 

He leaves behind him, freed from griefs and years, 
Far worthier things than tears. 

The love of friends without a single foe : 
Unequalled lot below ! 


Hi> iwd» —1, to gtmimt, tkmm aw thimi 
PiBr Umw dost Um NfiM r 

ITe in«T ^ra left tk» kmlj walki of a«i ; 
licA tW« hi baa i wImU thm f 

An Boi his fBOlalapi Mbfirod bj tba ajTM 

TW tk* wmnm d»jr la «««r, yat tkay aaak 
UpoatlM lofty paak 

or ya para ariad Um rnwati U«lit UuU floirt 

(Xar daaifc'a pawoaial OMwra. 
BchoMkim! from tka n«k« of Um Uaaft 

Ha ifaaka: babUathaa laai. 

Maoy monUM bafa* tha^ ha had \ma mmth aAetad 
io thinkit ortr tlM dattha and nkiottaaaa of diMa- 
gaiahad aMa wbidi had baan happanuig iwiid aboot 
hiai in qakk luccaiiiM. *'What a diaaal gap^" ha 
vritaa to BohiaaoB, " haa baan aada within a litUa tiaa 
in tha fanai of inlillael* «mi« tha planta of hjghaat 
growth!" Than, aftaranoMMting tha daathaoTBTioo, 
Scott, Goethe, and Colaad8^ ha aUadaa to Sonthej'a 
m^LAm*mm». |b iiii wtft'a doai^ of aiad, aad aodi^ ** It 
appaaa aa if tha wodd vava enddng all abovl ne. mnd 
laariag om no ol^aei cm which to fix my eyaa.* 

Navarthalaaa naw friaadi of n jrovngir (MMntioo war* 
dnwiag OM allar aoolhar Io Lmiatt iido. In tha yaar 
aA«r hi* niit to Ei«;laad than caaa from Oambridga tha 
aeholarand poai to whom tha tovan of Laador ani»> 
dabladforthaaoa(Uvii«aMdakillalakalah vhiehthaj 
poa**** of hia eaiaar a* a whole. I BMan Loid Hooghton, 
than Mr. M'*'*'*1**" Mil— a and a aaeant pvfil of Jnliaa 
Han;fnNn«hoaha bmighlfto Laadern latter of inHo. 
dnetkn. Being hid «p with glwdiin 9nm, Mr. 
Mibaawaa takaa bj Lanlor to Fiotob to narait,and 
paaaed aaranl waaka in hie TiOa. Ha haa written of 


146 LAXDOE. [chap. 

Laridor's affectionate reception, of liis complimentary old- 
world manners, and of his elegant though simple hos- 
pitality ; of his conversation, so affluent, animated, and 
coloured, so rich in knowledge and illustration, so gay 
and yet so weighty, that it equalled, if not surpassed, all 
that has been related of the tahle-talk of men emi- 
nent for social speech ; and last, not least, of his 
laughter, " so pantomimic, yet so genial, rising out of a 
momentarj' silence into peals so cumulative and sonorous, 
that all contradiction and possible aifront was merged for 

Yet another pilgrim of these days was Emerson. 
Landor was one of thoi^five distinguished men for the 
sake of seeing whom he h.*l made his first pilgrimage to 
Europe. Through a common friend, the sculptor Greenough, 
Emerson received an invitation to dine at the Axilla 
Gherardesca, and in his Evglish Traits, published many 
years afterwards, had niuch to say concerning his host, 
" I found him noble and courteous, living in a cloud of 
pictures at his Villa Gherardesca, a fine house commanding 
a beautiful landscape. I had inferred from his books, or 
magnified from some anecdotes, an impression of Achil- 
lean wrath — an untameable petulance. I do not know 
whether the imputation were just or not, biit certainly on 
this May day his courtesy veiled that haughty mind, 
and he was the most patient and gentle of hosts." 
Then follows a report of conversations held and opinions 
expressed at the villa, to some part of which, as we shall 
see, Landor felt called upon to take exception when it 
appeared. Another American guest made not less wel- 
come at the time, though he afterwards gave Landor 
occasion to repent his hospitality, Avas that most assiduous 
of flatterers and least delicate of gossips, X. P. Willis. 


With him Luidor diwMnd tht pngaet of aa Anmieui 

^ M lH of Um /MtMUMry CVWIWWWrftigtlf, atn^ Hm dMCOMioO 

NMhid to pnctiool A poinl Uuit y■^«^<^<^> ootaoIlT tntfiittcd 
to him hk ova oopyof the fire w6bammahmdj poUkhed, 
istrnksfod aiid tail of oometioiM and additi«wi, •■ well 
M hk moimaenpi matfcmk iir* axth. ThaMUr.WiUk 
foHhwUh ooiMignwi to Amfarioo* and hoTiag hkaaalf pro- 
c m dad to Kagiand, lingand on ia obaaquwui «||ojmoiit 
of tha gnat oompaay among whom ho found himaalf 
inntad, and ecaaad to troobk hhiirif any further about 
tha hnii nam ; aarvaaituatalaflarmndidakyandaaBOj* 
aaea thai hk aa^kded chaige ooold. ba l o co ya t o d horn 
over aeaa. Ho had beon mora loyal in ddirering to tha 
haadi to which it waa addnarad aaothar Tofapaa hi BMBa> 
aeriptooafidod to him by laadoivthat of tha OEMftON mrf 
of WaUam akakapmn. Of thia, Lady Blco- 
aadailook ai Laadot'a raoaaai to aapmjalaad tha 
ybJk a tin a, aad it appeamd aaotqrawnaly in the eoona 
of the year 1834. 

Tha JSmmimaHam o/ Blt^ufemn k tha fint of that 
trik«r ol hooka, m it haa baaa ■Gmitkiii eaDad, tha 
ooaqpoaitiaa of whkh oe cap kd the ehkf part of Luidor'a 
•tiMiglh dviBg hk Ufa at FSaaofe, Soaw yean bafiaie^ 
hehadwrittaa to Soathey that ha waa titiiiblii« alhk 
own audacity in ventanag to hriag Shakapaam apoa the 
•eaaa. At that time ho mmaly madilaird a dkkgae ol 
the oidiaaiy coaqiaai^ bat the diakgaa had powaiatoa 
vohnaa. What attmeted Lander aipadally tovMda the 
eakode of SMfaaaaxe'a trial at Chatkeote ftv deai^elaalfaw 
waa hk own fcmilkrity with the aawiry aad 
ofthapkaau la aa aadkr dkkgae ' 
•ad ItonfaoBio, ha had npiaaaaiad ObMMW aa taOiif i 
■lory (aad aa aaeoauaealy diaaty aloty too) 
I. S 

148 LAXDOK. [chap. 

an imaginary ancestor of Sir Thomas Lucj'. He now 
introduced that worthy magistrate himself, sitting in 
judgment in the hall of his house upon the youthful 
culprit from the neighbouring town. The account of the 
examination is supposed to be written by the magistrate's 
clerk, one Ephraim Barnett, a kindly soul, who allows his 
own compassion for the prisoner to appear plainlj' enough in 
the course of his narrative. The accusers are two of Sir 
Thomas's keepers, and the accused finds a malicious enemy 
in the person of the family chaplain, Master Silas Gough, 
who is conceived as having views of his own in reference 
to Anne Hathaway. The knight himself is made to show 
gleams of sense and kindness through his grotesque family 
and personal vanity. He has pretensions, moreover, to 
the character of an oracle on matters poetical. After 
many courteous rejoinders and covert banterings addressed 
by the prisoner to the knight, and many discomfitures of 
Master Silas, with much discussion and quotation of 
poetry, and an energetic working out of the intrinsic irony 
of the situation, the scene is brought to a close by the 
sudden escape of the prisoner, who darts out of the hall 
before any one can lay hands upon him, and in a trice is seen 
galloping past reach of pursuit upon his father's sorrel mare. 
This is the longest and most sustained attempt ever 
made by Landor at witty or humorous writing. One of the 
greatest of humourists, Charles Lamb, is reported to have 
said of the book, which appeared a few weeks before his 
death, that only two men could have written it, namely 
the man who did write it, or he on whom it Avas written. 
This friendly formula was probably uttered with little 
meaning ; but by Mr. Forster it has been taken in all 
seriousness. One of the earliest literary efforts of that 
zealous biographer himself was an enthusiastic review of the 


/ Bkah^mn wbta it appaand ; and in 
viiting Laadoi's liia fire^ad-Uiiriy jmn later be abowcd 
kiaealf aa anthnaiaatie aa ever. Mca. Browning baa 
a aiaihr opinion, bat I * tbink it ia ona fcw 
an likely to ahare. Lander'* natural atyla ia 
abnoat too wai^ty ; bia imitation of tba aaventaantb- 
eantmy dietka in tbb aeoM laniiwi it even eombiona. 
Tbo iailBtito dianetar of tba pnaa ia moraorer quite out 
of keeping wttb tba pon^ Tandorian atyla of tba Tonea 
wilb wbicb tba dialogna ia intenpcand. ** la tban m 
iHUi wiae awNifi^'* wrote Landor omo, ** to know wbatbar 
be bianlf iawiUyornot,totbo oxtant beaiaaatf I 
doobt wbclbar a^y qnaatinw aaada nore aelf<«xanunation. 
It ia only tba fooTa baart Ibat ia at net upon it" Tbat 
iMidoi'a own baait waa not ftdly at raat on tbe qoeetioii 
ba abowa by aaying of tbe Wramiimtitm wban be aent it 
«ii;''ItiBfUlof ftin.IkBOWMlwboCbarorwit.'' Iti* 
evident tbat Laadoi^anipla^enggarathraibioadly ironical 
vein of tnn needed in order to cwnwMwd it to otben tba 
balp of bia own gwial pnaanea and anlting, ineaiatibla 
lu^ Am eonvayed by Ua ttnowg-baeked, atalaly^inead 
writtaa aaataitoai^ ita afltet k to oppnaa ratber tbaa to 
OKbikala; aaab at laaal it tba fcaliig id tba pitMMt 
wiilar. Witty, in a towwi^ atbatwrtfaj, aolid^y fai- 
genkma way, liuidar ■■qaiatioaamy fa ; bnt talfim^ or 
•dioMyao ba faaot; tba triak nf Hgblniii» guitaanimiaaii 
01 any or gran DanMr, oi wpMny ■■ii ■■■, ■ ■oa wnun 
tba cotapaaa of bfa powera. 
Cnakiona aa any ba ita paaa, loaded ita wil, tbe 

aoaaa of tba vanaa aeattaiad tbiongb il, paitltdiiiy tba 
piece aaUad tba JfaAf < Lmwumt, are oKcailaat Bnlootba 

130 LANDOR. [chap. 

whole it seems to me the nearest approach to an elaborate 
failure made by Landor in this form of writing. The 
personage of Shakspeare himself is certainly less successful 
than that of Sir Thomas Lucy. A single brief quotation 
may serve to show how energetically the author contrives 
to push his own vein of irony, and at the same time of 
poetry, into the utterances of the didactic knight. Waiving 
a promised lecture to the prisoner on the meaning of the 
words " natural cause," Sir Thomas Lucy goes on : — 

Thy mind being unprepared for higher cogitations, and the 
groundwork and religious duty not being well rammer-beaten 
and flinted, I do pass over this supererogatory point, and inform 
thee rather, that bucks and swans and herons have something 
in their very names announcing them of knightly appurtenance. 
And (God forfend that evil do ensue therefrom !) that a goose 
on the common, or a game-cock on the loft of cottager or 
villager, may be seized, bagged, and abducted, with far less 
offence to the laws. In a buck there is something so gainly 
and so grand, he treadeth the earth with such ease and such 
agility, he abstaineth from all other animals with such punc- 
tilious avoidance, one would imagine God created him when He 
created knighthood. In the swan there is such purity, such 
coldness is there in the element he inhabiteth, such solitude of 
station, that verily he doth remind me of the Virgin Queen 
herself. Of the heron I have less to say, not having him about 
me ; but I never heard his lordly croak without the conceit that 
it resembled a chancellor's or a pi'imate's. 

Following the Examination of Shakspeare in the same 
volume, and in a far happier vein, was a conversation, 
also feigned to have been preserved by the same scribe 
Ephraim Barnett, between Essex and Spenser after 
the burning of the poet's house and of his children in 
Ireland. This is indeed one. of the noblest of all Lander's 
dialogues of passion. Caring little for Spenser's poetry, 
he had always been interested in his View of the State of 


J^^tin M tnimad ; aad Ifdand ia the wild da j* of the 
tithe nheUion, whi^ wae »t its height when I«iidOT 
wioCe^ wae in the CoRgioand of ell men'* thoo^tc The 
huginning of the dielogne it politieel ; Embx, who hae 
JMi hen eheiged with the aatUeMeiil of the kingdom, 
qnirtieiM Speaeer withoot el fint aolieiBg hieengvieh 
end pertaihelioii. Then ftdlowt the Cunoue pemege in 
whidi the vevebtioii of the poet'a miifbitaiiee ie ei kagth 
Ibiced from him. The noble co n r t e ey of FmeT, and the 
taodmMm and iamginatire beauty of the attemple made 
bgrhimto eooaole hie frieml befoie he kaowa the full 
aatam of the miilbHaae^ are eet ia hie ftaeet eootnetwith 
the cimhid deepeir of Speneer, hie •hrinkiag fraa the 
Jat ele iaMe Btenoriee withia him, aad the epeem ahaoel of 
madaem with which thoee a mmoriie atlasl bant ft«m hie 
lipe, yet without ever tearing or fuciag the ilnag fiUwie 
of the laagnage in whieh they are coaveyed. Thie ie the 
dielogae to whieh peih^ fini of all the reader ahoold 
tarn who wiehee to form aa idea of lAoilot^e peealiar 
dnamtie power end draantic awthod. 

The aeooad book phnaed, aad ia great pari written, by 
Laador at Kicaiile wee oa a Greek theaw; Ftridm mmd 
Atpamn; aad Hied two volomee. It ie ehaiatleiiitia of 
the aathor that he choee Ibr the tnalmeal of thie eal^t 
a form whidk ao oae elm woold havt thon^ U, aamdy 
the epislolBiy. He otigiaaUy jateaded lo iatrodaoe eon- 
venatioaeeewcU, bat ia the end decided aotlo do eo^ aad 
the book aeit ttaaiit eoMielB ealimly of iaatfiaaiT leMere 
fvem Fmklea to Atfmm, ftem Aaparia to Fmidm, aad 
fkomafcwmiaetpeiiOMgMloeefehofthemi Theehitfof 
theae mboidiMto eanei p oa d e a te ii dioaa^ a ftieml aad 
former eompaaioa of Aipeeia ai Miletafc Cleoaa ie ia 
lor* with a yoath Xeaiailee, who himeelf hopelmaly lores 

152 LANDOR. [chap. 

Aspasia, and following her to Athens, dies there. Famous 
personages of Greek history, as Anaxagoras and Alci- 
biades, take part also in the correspondence. It is made 
to begin with the arrival of Aspasia in Athens, and her 
first meeting with Pericles, which is represented as taking 
place at a performance of the Prometlieus Bound of 
^schylus, and it ends with the death of Pericles during 
the plague of Athens and the occupation of the Athenian 
territory by the Spartans, Landor, as he used to say, 
loved walking upon the heights ; he loved to think him- 
self into fellow-citizenship with the greatest figures of the 
greatest ages of history ; and he created for himself in 
Pericles and Aspasia an opportunity for pouring out all 
that he had imagined or reflected concerning the golden 
age of Greece. His sense of the glories of that age can 
best be realized by reading the language which he him- 
self puts into the mouth of Pericles. Conscious of his 
approaching end, Pericles Avrites a farewell letter to 
Aspasia, whom he has sent into the country out of reach 
of contagion. 

It is right and orderly (he begins) that he who has partaken 
so largely in the prosperity of the Athenians, should clofe the 
procession of their calamities. The fever that has depopulated 
our city, returned upon me last night, and Hippocrates and 
Acron tell me that my end is near. 

When we agreed, Aspasia, in the beginning of our loves, 
to communicate our thoughts by writing, even while Ave were 
both in Athens, and when we had many reasons for it, we little 
foresaw the more powerful one that has rendered it necessarj- 
of late. We never can meet again. The laws forbid it, and 
love itself enforces them. Let wisdom be heard by you as im- 
perturbably, and affection as authoritatively, as ever ; and re- 
member that the sorrow of Pericles can arise but from the 
bosom of Aspasia. There is only one word of tenderness we 
could say, which we have not said oftentimes before; and there 


in it. Ti« kapoT B««*r «ir. mad batat Ii«ar 

«x«lttag niraqttcti tad in higmgi tinwlh Um 
nipliaity of wkkli Omn throbf Um p«1m of * 


Aad mom (JU tamdmim) •& tk« doM of nj day, wIim trvry 
Hglil b Ab, Md tvcrjr f trt fcyiirf. lei ■• owa tkal tk«» 
WBM bairn M. WW bf ia g. « I do. b tW pvid* nd IUmm 
of aj bcart, tkU Ath«M wJ dtd Imt glorf, aad AipaM Wr 

Have I bMs a fiutkfol gMrdiaa ? Db I nmgm ik&m to Um 
cwladbr ttf tW ffidi ssdMUSMkad Mid wuanaind ? WalonM^ 
thm, wi lw ^ ■/ ImI fc— r! AlUr Myojuif for w grwl a 
•mkar «f jwn, is ay poUfe aad yiifala Hfr. wkat I ktliovo 
Imh Mfw bc«o Um lot of aay oCImt, I aov tstoad wkj knd to 
Iko wo, aad tak» vitUot idoelaooa or baaHoHao what ia tW 

Tho todnieal idiokr, it b tnir, will find in Peridm^mi 
Asfmma im^nhtkHWrn and oaoduoiiMM ooon^; far 
Lndor wsolo ao i«Md oat of kk Wad, tad wUkoal la- 
BoviaK Ido aeoaiialoaoo trilli aallMtiUoa for Idi iy tt4ft ? 
paipooo ; aad hia knoodidgi^ aaloafaliiwg ftoai aay oUht 
poial oC Tiov, waa ftoai tkil of liidiaiwl ■riinlaiiMp ta- 
coaipiola Ha did aottwaMa hiaiilf ■tinat imariilwaiinBi 
orfUildad,olMVTii« i%hl|jaa«^llMlDiak«aawaa 
nol Hialoiy, aad thai ia a work of inngiMlioa aomo 
bartiaa ad^ J^HaMiily bo taken vithfcd. Oaly 
thaa bo iboald Wfo baaa conAd aot loqait IbalipteB 
of tbooghl aad ftafiag vbora iwi^itfna ia lavMly 
■ owoawt; Boi lo by aaid«, aa bo too oftoa dooi^ tko 
toM of tbo Mmrj oHiit for Iftat of tbo ctilkai aad 
bblorical iaqiiiior. Pin'ekit mmdJUfmim, Hko aoaa of tbo 

154 LANDOR. [chap. 

classical CotiversationSfhas the misfortune of being weighted 
with disquisitions too learned for the general reader, and 
not sound enough for the special student. Eut for this 
drawback, the book is throughout in Landor's best 
manner. It is full of variety and invention • we pass 
from the performance of Prometheus before the assembled 
Athenians to Aspasia's account of the dawn of love be- 
tween herself and Pericles, and of the fascination and 
forwardness of the boy Alcibiades ; to letters which reveal 
the love-frenzy of the unhappy Xeniades ; then to others 
containing criticisms, accompanied by imaginary speci- 
mens, of various greater or minor Greek poets ; and thence 
to original exercises in poetry by the correspondents 
themselves. One of these, the fragment attempted, we 
are asked to believe, by Aspasia, on the re-union of 
Agamemnon and Iphigenia among the shades, Landor 
always accounted his best piece of dramatic writing in 
verse. In later editions there are added in this place 
other scenes exhibiting the vengeance of Orestes, and illus- 
trating the proud and well-founded confidence of ori- 
ginality with which Landor was accustomed to approach 
anew themes already handled even by the greatest of 
masters. Besides all this, we have speeches of Pericles 
on the death of Cimon, the war of Samos, the defec- 
tion of ^Nlegara and of Eubcea, and the policy of Athens 
against Sparta ; speeches brief, compressed, stately, uniting 
with a careful avoidance of the examples to be found 
in Thucydides a still more careful observance of the pre- 
cept, " There is so very much not to say." We have 
the scene in which Aspasia is accused before the assembly, 
and Pericles defends her. Towards the close of the cor- 
respondence we find reflected in it the shadows of war, 
pestilence, and calamity. Finally, after the death of 


FarieliS t>Mra tra addad two fettan in which AldhiMiw 
teUt AipMk how hs died, and how Cfeooa, anir^ al 
tha horn of aMmniiV ftoM Mikliii^ waa Miaed hjia- 
hdUm OB tha thrwhoM, awl il^aiii^ towaidi tha 
gndoi iHMn Xankdet lay bonad, died datpng tha tomb 
of hia aha had lovad IB vaia. 

Ib aUthMkha atra^th, eoMMeneai, and hannony of 
Landoc'a Eaglkh ttjU are at their hoj|^ Tha Tonae in 
tha book aia again Tety oneqaal ; its pioaa it azan^laiy 
and jfaHghtiil Tha pio|NKly diaaatae parte, tha abb 
and iow of IbaliBg betwaan Fnielea and AapaaSa, and 
batwaan Oaona and Xaniadc% are ollan tooehed with 
Laadot^ atiMal, that i«, aa wa havo aaid, with so 
allbotShakiiMriaBeobtlatyaBdjiiatieaonBaight. Tha 
reieettta parte are Mt of aayiagi aa new ae thay are wiea, 
oAan iUoetratad and eniBierd with ia^aa of 
baaaty. Tha apiiit of beoaty, indeed, veigM^ ae it : 
IB hardly any other awdara writing;, over tha thoaghta 
and kagoaga of tha ehaiaaleia, aad tha two toIobmb aia 
peihapa tha liahaal adaa wUdi Ei^lUi praee litoataie 
eontalBe of Bohia aad unaeed giantaliw 

Ve il tha body of hie book ware not ftdl anoi^ 
Landar soil neada append to it two ehiea-paekcd 
epHagBaa wiitlaB IB hie owB aaaa. One wm poiitieal, 
BoadBaOy ob tha AthoBiaB gavanoBeBt, hot raOly taXi of 
UeideaooBBwdaniaBdeepaeidJtySi^^ palitiee, ob 
the iiriiitibHihaiBl of tha Iiiek Onnh, tha rafem of 
the Hooea of Lotde aad of tha apteopaey; tha other 
litanuy, nnBiaiai^g mm^f of thoaa eigaMOBJi ob laagB^n 
aad orthagnp^ iatw i iii tar inaitiaB ia tha Cewivvw 
mtioma, of whieh Laadoi'e origiaal daft lad Ibr the 
•-«eBt diappeaaed thra^gh thaaiiliiiaiii of Mr, X. P. 

Ilia. ThatgeatlaiaB had in the aiaaHai aot a litUa 

156 LANDOR. [chap, 

scandalized his acquaintances in England by the book in 
which he had narrated his experiences. To this publica- 
tion and to his own loss Landor alludes as follows : — " I 
never look for anything, but I should add disappointment 
and some degree of inquietude to the loss. I regret the 
appearance of his book more than the disappearance of 
mine. . . . Greatly as I have been flattered by the visits 
of American gentlemen, I hope that for the future no 
penciller of similar compositions will deviate in my 
favour to the right hand of the road from Florence to 
Fiesole. In case of mistake, there is a charming view of 
the two cities, and of Yaldarno and Yallombrosa, from 
the iron gate at the entrance of my grounds : I could not 
point out a more advantageous position." 

Landor had by this time learnt not to imperil his 
equanimity by personal dealings with publishers. Mr. G. 
P. R. James undertook the arrangements for Pericles and 
AsjMsia, as Lady Elessington had undertaken those for 
the Examination of Shalispeare. The book was received 
with delight by a distinguished few, but ignored by the 
general public. The publisher lost money by it, and 
Landor, without a word of complaint, insisted on making 
good the loss. He in like manner paid instead of receiving 
money for the publication of his next book, the Pentameron 
and Pentalogia. The Pentameron is a series of dialogues, 
connected by a slender thread of narrative, and supposed 
to have been held on five successive days between Petrarch 
and Boccaccio, in Boccaccio's villa of Certaldo, during his 
recovery from an illness and not long before his death. 
The PentaJogla, Avhich follows, is a series of five miscel- 
laneous dramatic scenes entirely independent of the Pen- 
tameron, and conceived in just the same vein as the shorter, 
dramatic, imaginary conversations ; only written in 


I Uiik rmm iaikmd of pcwe. Tvo of Umm art fron 
Um tttny of Oractea, ud are inoorporated in Um latar 
ajjlfaaa of Fmdm mmi iiiygia ; the oUmis an bolwow 
XMKaad Boom; tbt Bmnls of Lalkw; aad WilUm 
Bafca and Tyirell ; Um hitor a piaet of gm* t%ow and 

Ib Um Pml m m tt i 'cm huidat k afun at hia my baat. 
All hta atady of U)« great lialian writen of tba I 
oaataty, aadall liii nnmt obaaitaUom of Tm 
r, aftftWMd toikilftU and 
Laador lored aad wadawtood D ocri Mi o throng 
aadUmN^;aiid if 1m omaaHMalad UmI pioliie awl 
a»aU§ giafaM ia ooi^oriaeB wiUi oCbar aad gnatar aan, 
it waa aa cnor wUeli for Um pnaaal pvfpoaa waa tltmM 
aa advaalaga. KoUdag eaa ba phaMat» thaa Um ialar- 
oooanofUM two ftieadly poala m Laador kad i»^|iaad 
it; BoUiiag Bora njaawwlly idylUe thaa tba iaeidaBlal 
qiiaodea. Bvaa tba basour of tba piaea ia aaeeaaafal, in 
aU al laMt tbal baa to do vitb tba abafaaJwa of Um aly 
paiiA priaat, tba pwt^ aad abrawil wrfaal aaiiil ftaaaa 
tiaa, aad bar baabfallovar. Tkaa^ tbaraoeear oaaortvo 
baarj aloriaa, baarily aad iaaibetivly tobL Aad BMay 
Imran of Baala May ba dboekad at tba aMyapalbatk 
critidm of UmI pool wbieb ilia a kiga part of «eb d^y*a 
ooBTnaatioQ. Tbia ia in part oooaoaaat with tba opiaioaa 
a i Brib td tndiliMilly to BilnMb, aad ia part npiwiaii 
Laato^ pltrtaJrfgaiMil Ha bald Diala to ba om of 
Um TMy giaatart of aU poata, bat tbo^bt ba ibowad bia 
tiaa giaataaaa oal^ at care iatarrak. ^''■•'^'■^■g ia 
poaftiy, at ia bialoiy, Um part dna to tba fafiridMl aloaa, 
Laador bolda Dnto pano«al^ tmfomOtk km aUUMaa 
Hiialitiw »hkib mrnw hnialatoil m Mm Vj bh iImbmU muI 
biaagr, laataad of p iJriag ia bbB,ai (Mfk im^ 

~ 158 LANDOR. [chap. 

the next generation of students to perceive, the " voice " 
of all the Catholic centuries, the incarnation of the spirit of 
the Middle Age and of Florence, Landor acknowledged in 
him only a man of extraordinary genius, who had indulged 
in the Inferno in a great deal of vindictive ferocity, and in 
the Paradiso of barren theological mysticism. Having no 
sympathy for the Gothic in literature, that is to say, for 
the fantastic, the unreasonable, and the grim, Landor 
collects for superfluous and somewhat tedious reprobation 
examples of these qualities from Dante. He asserts an 
extravagant disproportion between the good and the bad 
parts of his work, and fails to do justice even to that 
unmatched power which Dante exhibits in every page, 
and which Landor himself shared with him in a remark- 
able degree, of striking out a visible image in words 
sudden, massive, and decisive. But all this and more 
may be forgiven Landor for the sake of such criticism 
as he devotes to those parts of Dante which he does 
admire. On the episode of Piero and Francesca, he has put 
into the mouth of Boccaccio the following comments : — 

Petrarca. The thirty lines from Ed io send, are unequalled 
by any other continuous thirty in the whole dominions of 

Boccacio. Give me rather the six on Francesca : for if in the 
former I find the simple, vigorous, clear narration, I find also 
what I would not wish, the features of Ugolino reflected full 
in Dante. The two characters are similar in themselves ; hard, 
cruel, inflexible, malignant, but, whenever moved, moved power- 
fuU}'. In Francesca, with the faculty of divine spirits, he 
leaves his own nature (not indeed the exact representative of 
theirs), and converts all his strength into tenderness. The 
great poet, like the original man of the Platonists, is double, 
possessing the further advantage of being able to drop one half 
at his option, and to resume it. Some of the tenderest on 


irt BO ftjmp«tlii« WyoaJ ; «i4 MMt of th» 

reooTM witli ikit UOa m cwrt « f , Wv» Mf ■< 
tk tMTi. It M Mt Ami Um kom Uuit Uw W* 
V. bat often from tlM MOtt Mrid aad sort bitter 

ff t>XWM B iBriiln ri>o 
ktO di OOtMltO ■■wf», 
&I da HM MM A» 4Mm ! 
id tall 
Qaal giorBO |m4 Mm vi lonaauM STaate. 

lo tb« audit of b« paaiibaiwit, fnntrntm, vboa aht osmmb to 
tko iMJMMt port of W ttorj, tcOi it vUk iiD«flinoij «rf 
Migbi; oai, iaataod of aaaOBf PImIo^ wUflk bdoM oIm atrcr 
baa doB* fram tW WgtaaiBf, A§ mom teagaotes bim m 

QoMtt, ebe mat do mm aoa flo diriao! 

Aio vomI uaptUod to job ia bar pmytr, vUuaf tbcai bo|nii<r 

PHrmrtm, If tb«r» bo ao na in it 

BarwoTM. A j, tad ovta if tbon bo . . . Godbal^BoI Wbot 
• wMt aspiMtioo ia tocb oHBia of tbo vena ! tbnt Ion wgbi 

Dit aad tafloqionto 1 TWa vbw iho bolii «id 
Loboeeaad badft taltol 

•Iw Btopo : abo wooU avoit tbo ojoo of Dm^ firoa bnr : bo 

loukfl for tbowfad: obo tbiaka bo looko unrnAjt tAmmj*, 

" OmImtU it tbo aoao of tbo book." &aejii« bj tbb Hawrnaa 

liltio ligbt iko boo 4iava biai fw oaoagb ftoai tbo aoit of kr 

Toooff bfOB. Vo, tbo ooflo bMk of Du«o oa4 bis piitcii^p 

^ 010 yot ofor htt. ** OmImtU ia tbo aaaM of tbo book." 

\Vbat aMttan tbatP" **Aad of tbo vritcr.* -Or tbal 

bar^** AtlaatabodiMmaUa: batbovf "Itrnt^yw 

«^ ao Bon." Saab a 4aptb of iaiaitifo ja4gMat.taab o 

Mioaty of pawaftioa, odate aot ia aa j otbar awk of baoMa 


It ia a pait oC I^mAot'o owa dalkMj ia ^*^"-g tiM 
that bo fnilBDMM until MMlte tiao tht 

160 LANDOR. [chap. 

of its one flaw ; namely the fact that Galeotto is really 
an equivalent for Fandams. Next to this example of 
what Landor could do in criticism, let us take, also from 
the Pentameron, an example of what he could do in 
allegory. This was a form of composition for which 
Landor had in general some contempt, especially when, 
as by Spenser, it was used as a foundation more or less 
shifting and dubious for an independent structure of 
romance. But the direct and unambiguous use of allegory 
in illustration of human life and experience he thought 
occasionally permissible, and no one except the object of 
his aversion, Plato, has used it as well. Petrarch's alle- 
gory, or rather dream, in the Pentameron, is of love, 
sleep, and death. It is an example unmatched, as I 
think, in literature, of the union of Greek purity of out- 
line with Florentine poignancy of sentiment. The oftener 
we read it, the more strongly it attracts and holds lis by 
the treble charm of its quiet, sober cadences, its luminous 
imagery, and its deep, consolatory wisdom. The thoughts 
and feelings concerning life and the issues of life which it 
translates into allegorical shape will be found to yield 
more and more meaning the closer they are grasped : — 

I had reflected for some time on this subject (the use and 
misuse of allegory, sajs Petrarch), when, wearied with the 
length of my walk over the mountains, and finding a soft old 
mole-hill covei'ed with grey grass by the wayside, I laid my 
head upon it and slept. I cannot tell how long it was before a 
species of dream or vision came over me. 

Two beautiful youths appeared beside me; each was 
winged ; but the wings were hanging down, and seemed ill 
adapted to flight. One of them, whose voice was the softest I 
ever heard, looking at me frequently, said to the other, " He is 
under my guardianship for the present ; do not awaken him 
with that feather," Metliought, on hearing the whisper, I saw 


lik* the CmAW of Ml tfTOv, Mid tWa ft* 
n l f Uw wlMb (/ it, •*« to tlM point ; aliboagklM orrad 
u b «Mk • HMBMr tlMl it WM aiAesk U inl te aiMOfW Mora 
tkoB a pda'a l«ftk of H ; tbo rati of tko dMft (nd tiM wkolo 
of tlM kn^) «M WUad Uo aneiM. 

** Tkb tettv ■•«« ■wkoao my om,** npliod ko ntkor 
pililM^jr, ** hfA it Wiafi aoi* of OMidoat oteariij, aad aoca 
of AmUktA dioaaH tkaa joa, witlMNit bm, an cipoWo of 

** B* it M>.** aaovtrad tko gontW. " aooo i» 1«« iadiaod to 
qoaml or diopali tkaa I aai. Maay wkoa joa kavo 
gnofoaify o^l ayoa mo iat oaeeoart Wl oa Kltlo aai I 
to Uraart jToa il io Mldoai I toataia la da MM f 
ta wynpor a Crw arofdo af ooodbft ia paitfaf . How aMay 
i IkoM oooarioao kava kcaa omI apoa bm for 
I aad ialdolMy ! NmHj m naay and aoariy ia tko 
aa apoa yaa.** * 
•*Odd oaoagk tkat «t, O olotpt okoaU ko tkoagkt oo 
aUkal" wM Lata wiatowtlanaaly. ** Taadv io ko wko koan 
a aoaiof Nonulaaoo ta yaa; Ika dautik kava akoiwod it. 

I bacM I taia o d ay oyaa la wkwa ko wta poiaktaf^ aad 
■aw al a dkdaaoa tko Ifwa ko daaigaalod. Moaawkilo Iko 

iaf Ua paaar m kb koaoila. Lara vMapilalalad Ikoaa, kal 
oaly tkal ka aigkt MMft kb ava akara Ikaa. Saddvafy ko 
ealbd oa aw la dorida, aad la ckoooa mj pabaa. Uadar tlw 
iisk of tko oaa^ tkaa of tko oik o r, I optaaf tmm 
laplara ; I aKgktad ftaaa laplaia oa lapoao^ aad kao» 
not wkkk was aw iaba t Lava van taiy ■■CT **^ **• **' 
aaabtaa aa aaala aaaaa bm taiaa^Mai lao waoto of i^y 
obtaaaa Wkabvar I aigkl oa alkar oowbao kava Ikei^kl 
of kb voraoity I aov Ml laa aavaly Iko eoBTbHaa Ikal ka 
»oald kaap kb aaad. Al bal. kafiaa Iko cbao of tW aMai^ 
catba, tko tkiid fMiaa kad advaaoad. aad abod aaar aa. I 
-naaol ton kov I kaov kb^ kal I kaow kba ta ka Iko goaiaa 
Daatk. Hwtklaaa aa I vaa al lnknliBai Vm, I aoa« 
iwoaaao fc^a^arilk kbfcalaiM. fkal Ikiy twmnA aaty adi { 
|iiiiii\y tkay kaoMM wbafhHf^ aad bally tiiatlMt 

162 LANDOE. [chap. 

those of the Graces themselves are less regular, less harmonious, 
less composed. Love glanced at him unsteadily, "with a counte- 
nance in which there was somewhat of anxiety, somewhat of 
disdain, and cried, " Go away ! go away ! Nothing that thou 
touchest lives." 

" Say rather, child ! " replied the advancing form, and ad- 
vancing grew loftier and statelier, say rather that nothing of 
beautiful or of glorious lives its own true life until my wing 
hath passed over it." 

Love pouted, and rumpled and bent down with his fore- 
finger the stiff short feathers on his arrow-head, but replied not. 
Although he frowned worse than ever, and at me, I dreaded 
him less and less, and scarcely looked toward him. The milder 
and calmer genius, the third, in proportion as I took courage to 
contemplate him, regarded me with more and more complacency. 
He held neither flower nor arrow, as the others did; but throw- 
ing back the clusters of dark curls that overshadowed his 
countenance, he presented to me his hand, openly and benignly. 
I shrank on looking at him so neai', and yet I sighed to love 
him. He smiled, not without an expression of pity, at per- 
ceiving my diffidence, my timidity ; for I remembered how soft 
was the hand of Sleep, how warm and entrancing was Love's. 
By degrees I grew ashamed of my ingratitude, and turning my 
face away, I held out my arms and felt my neck within his. 
Composure allayed all the throbbings of my bosom, the coolness 
of freshest morning breathed around, the heavens seemed to 
open above me, while the beautiful cheek of my deliverer rested 
on my head. I would now have looked for those others, but, 
knowing my intention by my gesture, he said consolatorily, — 

" Sleep is on his way to the earth, where many are calling 
him, but it is not to them he hastens ; for every call only 
makes him fly further off". Sedately and gravely as he looks, ho 
is nearly as capricious and volatile as the more arrogant and 
ferocious one." 

" And Love," said I, " whither is he departed ? If not too 
late I would propitiate and appease him." 

" He who cannot foUow me, he who cannot overtake and 
pass me," said the genius, "is unworthy of the name, the 


- bMvea. Look «p! Loro ttjoodar, 

n<]«r BO ; I nw ool/ tbo cUar 
;<r aboro it 

mn bean on iU tiU»>page the date 1837. 

l«ared a graat ehaoge had eona omr 

II" had aaid fiovwell to hia heantiftil 

'•> ; had tvrnad hia hack upon hia childran ; 

frmn all hia hoMdiiM plaaaona and 

.^^..(•.;.v...<, , .i»i coma hack to Hta aloaa in En^and. 

In a poem intgodaead into the Fmtawmrom itaalf, in whiA 

thoaa plaaaona and oecupationa an more fully deaerihed 

than in nj other of hia writings he looka upon them 

already ae tUngi ol the paai. The pieee li nominally 

tioolad by Po eeaeeio ea the woifc of an Italian gwtkman 

foeeed to leave Ua eou^ ; it ie really an addram wiitlen 

by Laador from Fngland to hia yonngaat eon *'Cbriino.'* 

To th«« aeeond dimnliaB of hia home t^i^^^ b^ been 

foread hj l e ne we d AeMMiona with hie wifk The Fleeo* 

Ua hoamhoH had in troth be«n below the rarfbee no 

h ai moaioaa or wdtoidend one. A hnebtad abaoihed 

in hia own imagiaingi^ a wife mote rmdy to make hecaalf 

igiemhlii to any one elaa than to her boaband, dbildren 

devDiedly lo«ad,hai aooe the lamaQowed to ran wild, 

hma w«m of thaawe lTm Bl am eat a mwagh of dommtia 

ahipwreek. Add to thia that laadoi'a own oeeaaoaal 

b— ta of ramion woold eeem to have mel mom than thob 

makh in Mm. Laador^ pamblaBl petnlanoe of oppeai- 

ton. The inmiediata mam d hia d e paitam he himnlf, 

mhI At laail oae ftiaadly witaaaib iH^gid to hare 

beea the liagMgi mpeated^, aad ia the feea of all 

miiuaatiBW, addwamd to him by hit wife ia pmamee 

of the diiUn^ Thk Laador had felt to be afik* 


164 LANDOR. [chap. 

demoralizing to them and humiliating to himself, and 
had determined to endure it no longer. He left his 
home in the spring of 1835 ; spent the summer by him- 
self at the baths of Lucca ; reached England early in the 
autumn, stayed for three months with his friend Ablett 
at Llanbedr, and then went for the winter to Clifton; 
Next year he was for a long time again at Llanbedr, 
after which he stayed for a while in London, renewing 
old friendships and forming new. In the meantime 
friends of both sides of the house had been endeavouring 
to bring about some kind of arrangement between the 
husband and wife. In the interests of the children, 
over whom jNIrs. Landor confessed that she had no con- 
trol, it was proposed that while they and she should 
continue to live together, Avhether in England or abroad, 
Landor should establish himself, if not under the same roof, 
at any rate close by. At one time it was settled that the 
children should come to meet their father in Germany, 
and with that view Landor travelled to Heidelberg in 
September, 1836. But they never came, nor were any of 
the other proposed arrangements in the end found practi- 
cable. Landor's children remained with their mother at 
Fiesole ; letters and presents continued to be exchanged 
between them and their father ; twice or thrice in the 
coming years they came to visit him in England ; but 
they were practically lost to him henceforward. With 
his wife's relations living in this country he continued to 
be on perfectly cordial terms. The winter of 1836-37 
he passed, like the last, at Clifton, where he and Southey, 
whose health and strength began about this time to fail, once 
more enjoyed the happiness of each other's society. From 
Clifton Landor went again, as on the previous year, first 
to stay with Ablett at Llanbedr, and then with Lady Lies- 


' 'nLondon. Tbe rasi of the i 

its at Toiqtuy and PtyoMwIh, he 
. in Odober, 1837, at Bath; and from 
1 .., k.-, m, begiaa. 

lodoc^ d<|» aiiur e from fleaole 

iuneutBiliaUihadnolbeenidljipani The 

' ^—maddedtoPMielMoatfi^pafiStaada 

' mtamtnm had been tat the int time 

' ha of Laeea, or aftenraida in £ng> 

>(; had quickly followed. Fin* 

lich the leaa aaid the better, 

•f the ptiedhood, and entitled 

i -^ ..... .. ..ucel peaphlelin the totmct 

kMen addieeied to Lord Melbooroe, and called LeHen 
4/ a CiiaMnaWiw. The paitirnlar point to which thaee 
letten ia dbeeled ia the lenedjof epiaeopal a b neei in 
Wales ; but thej contain nindi p<ditical and penooal 
oMtter d intewat baehlaa For om thii« thqr intinn 
08 ci, wbtt atndcnta of Lander aean hitherto lo h«?e 
i p y^f l ^^ ff fc^i^^ 4|ig Mig cia j ahape which hia laos^ieridwd 
prc^jeei of a hielorjof hie own tinMa had latlanljaiMnMdy 
and of ^ end to whiA it had oonab 

It h kaewa to maaydistiatdthad ■ae.Htwaij and poBtJml. 
of bath partiM. thai I k»Fe knff baan eaoepiad in wiitii« a 
v«tk,whidi I tb a^ N te entitle lU LtUtrt ^m Ck m m na 
tirt. Ia thMO I iMi«|tii te tnea aad te espaaa the faelta 
ana ftlhniM of evarj a da i lab i ti e ll ee, flmn the buiaalag «f 
the j«r one tlMwaad teten hn^ed end aefaa!^r>t?e. I 
vaa ben at the epaoiaff ef that jeer; and aaajhafebMn 
my uptiataaitiai ef eantwah^ tX beaa eniakeed. with tba- 

»bo vMlaek in the eveaU tbet ftDawed it. 

I tbiw tb«a pafMB bile the in ; ae leawd ef than is aaiiti^ 

Lendo>^WMonfardattio|ii^hia wwk hnd bean Om 
creditable one that itaiepMhauiMi of aoMliTii«i 

166 LANDOR. [chap. 

men had come to him to seem more strong than was de- 
sirable to pulblish. In the course of the far narrower 
argument to which his present Letters are directed, Landor 
finds occasion for these extremely characteristic observa- 
tions on the national and religious characteristics of the 
"Welsh, to whom, after his prolonged visits at Llanbedr, 
he feels more kindly now than of yore, in comparison with 
those of the Irish: — 

In the Irish we see the fire and vivacity of a southern people : 
their language, their religion, every thought is full of images. 
They have been, and ever must be, idolaters. Do not let their 
good clergy be angry with me for the expression. I mean no 
harm by it. Firmly do I believe that the Almighty is too 
merciful and too wise for anger or displeasure at it. Would 
one of these kind-hearted priests be surly at being taken for 
another ? Certainly not : and quite as certainly the Maker of 
mankind will graciously accept their gratitude, whether the 
offering be laid in the temple or on the turf, whether in the 
enthusiasm of the heart, before a beautiful image, expressing 
love and benignity, or, without any visible object, in the bleak 
and desart air. 

The "Welshman is serious, concentrated and morose ; easily 
offended, not easily appeased ; strongly excited by religious 
zeal ; but there is melancholy in the musick of his mind. Cim- 
merian gloom is hanging still about his character ; and his God 
is the God of the mountain and the storm. 

One more equally characteristic quotation, and we may 
close the Letters of a Conservative. 

The Bishop of London groaned at an apparition in Ireland : 
and a horrible one it was indeed. A clergyman was compelled 
by the severity of Fortune, or, more Christianly speaking, by 
the wiles and maliciousness of Satan, to see his son work in 
his garden. 

Had the right reverend baron passed my house, early in the 
morning, or late in the evening, the chances are that he would 

n.] rnSOLE ASJ> ENGL-iXD. 1« 

)mn iMmd a* doisf Uk* ium tkiag, tad 
oBprailibfy; that ia, plantinf traaa firom wUak mmm oUmt 
wUl gatW tba (hut. W<mU Us Bitnd kaad katrt tmntd 
fciddx to ••• BM OB a ladd«, pttu^af or gimftiaf mj paachM P 
I mmU baTo boM aoRy lor n» sot Moif wad to obmo down 
unl M^ work via owt ofM vkas TMnoB so wa fliMlnow 
tkaa th« ligkt mtmd hum bsft flaDad m aMi Bal «• 
Mva talked togitoar in oar rwatiTa itationa ; I aborVi ihty 

Benaea uu% Landor oontribated in 1637 to Leggh 
HaafaJtoiiyy JBywftery aaariwaof dJaJogqiBiaad httow 
ediad High tmd Lorn Lift m //o/jr, which an good in 
ptopoftkn to Umit gnmiy ; the iiiiQoiitj,baiQg fao a i i o na ^ 
an 1— what fened and dnaij. A nn Toloma^ and ooe 
aradidMriohod bj the lovanoCLaador, ia thai which Mr. 
Ablatt priatod for prirate dtatrilotioift ia thia aaoie yaar 
1S37. It eoBtaiaa a Uth«gnph from Covat d'Om/a 
pnfia QCLuMlordnwninl835; a dadkatfon «r tManp- 
taoB two pagaa loog,aBd in tha aMat Mifinglj ewaiO' 
nkmaTcia, toMn. Ablatt bj Iwi hnabaiid, and a aalaatios 
fvom Iba OommmiAom and ofthar fligiliTa piaeaa wbioh 
LiwdfTbftili'^fTp'irtH t1^T■fHw[^ttitt1^^rnh^41r^ 
to |ifff^*«*«* fiva yaan batea \ baiidaa aoan tutiaiit i ftooi 
Lai^ Hnat, and ooa or two aft wioa i whi^ HV*** ^ ^ 
Mr. Ablatio own. 

LmU7 Liador pnntad, atiU ia tha aatama of 1837, a 
panphlai ia Ajaiiag M^lali whkh ha a^kd A aaHn 
em SaHritla, amI AdmmiHm fo iMnacdara, Thia ia aa 
atlenpt ia a aaaaar of wtitiag whidi ha had abandoiwd 
iianbeyhood. LaadorlMdaDowadhlaMalf fcroaaatoba 
Ifftl i t a d by a wyiaw ; aa attack, aamajy, oa M i a rho i anhi p 
(aeaompaniad, il ahoold ba aaid, with gmmuX oritkioM of 
a kwbtoiy kind) whkh had appaand ia Bkihmiti. 
Ha now iad^iid, daaHily itaaMl ha eoatand^ ia tha 

168 LANDOE. [chap. 

somewhat stale entertainment of baiting Scotch reviewers. 
The only things which make the Satire noteworthy are 
the lines in which Landor alludes to his own scene of 
Agamemnon and Iphigenia, — 

Far from the footstool of the tragic throne, 
I am tragedian in this scene alone, — 

and the passages in which he allows himself to turn 
against the old object of his respect and admiration, 
Wordsworth. He had been letting certain remarks uttered 
by or attributed to Wordsworth rankle in his mind. He 
had begun to discover, during his visit in 1832, the 
narrow intellectual sympathies of that great poet, and his 
indifference to the merits of nearly all poetry except his 
own. Xow again, in the summer of 1837, Landor had 
seen or imagined AVordsworth cold, while every one else 
was enthusiastic, when they were present together at the 
first night of Talfourd's Ion. Lastly, it had been related 
to him that Wordsworth had said he would not give five 
shillings a ream for the poetry of Southey. iN'ever in the 
least degree jealous on his OAvn account, Landor was in- 
tensely so on account of his friend, and forgetting the life- 
long intimacy and regard of Wordsworth and Southey, 
thought proper to call the former to account as a 
"Detractor." The lines in which he does so are not 
good ; they hit what was to some extent really a blot 
in Wordsworth's nature ; but they had much better never 
have been written ; and we think with regret of the old 
phrases of regard — " vir, civis, philosophe, j^oeta, prccstan- 
tissime," and " When 'mid their light thy light appears." 
Wordsworth, to whose notice the attack was only brought 
some time after it appeared, was little ruffled by it. JS'either 
was Landor on his part, when Crabbe Eobinson strongly 

r •' « - - '- c-.:-^ .u- 1 — » otomW. 

> hit ova 
] 'ir, M being **lim bar from 

V iivn iiui win'tiia iiMilyaiMlogoiu 

fyum. Wo nlf wo rt h dmied anj eon* 
Ktoos tmitatkm. It WMj at tbk point not be witbont 
inteieet to eonpeie Laador^e origiaal linee, tbe beet known 
in dQ hit poetxy, with thoee in which thej were thoe 
edioed hy hie biother poeli, aeeidaitallj, it leenia, bj 
Woidiworth, end eTowedly by Bjion. In the original it 
* the aea^jmph who propoeee the ahell ee an approinate 
1 jdait to be peid bj her to Tamer if he be«ti her in 
vrieitliBg: — 

Bel I have ri— eee abiBe of pMurlj Irae 
fVUkfa, eied tkej IImI laalie have ieikibed 

Hie *erinl wheel etaadi mUmtsj ia thewava^ 
Shakeeaeb ead it eweieae t Itaiepply 
lu polidift Up to year aHeatHv ear, 
Aadfl uBiiMlme iteeiiftabodei^ 
Aad aianaan aa the eeaaa anwaian tlMrai 

Bjraa'a Umb is the Mtmti tompt» the enhdaed aoond 
^ r Hm eaa at onneel with that to be heaid in the ahen ; *m1 

•f a pieee with hit naoal awinging careleHneei • 
"Buuarai«r'*oCoM Hae ia aade lo *' rare " three liaee 
Anther OB >— 

Woidrarofth tana the yhmTwiiFi la aeaoaai Ibr the 
parpoeaa of a fine metaphriieal aad didaafe awt^hor. 

170 LAISTDOE, [ch. vi. 

describing it at the same time in lines which, compared 
with any of those in the j)assage from Gehir except the 
fourth and fifth, are somewhat lumbering and diluted. 
The shell, Landor said, had in this version lost its pearly 
hue within, and its memory of where it had abided. 

I have seen 
A curious child who dwelt upon a tract 
Of inland ground, applying to his ear 
The convolutions of a smooth-lipped shell ; 
To which, in silence hush'd, his very soul 
Listen'd intensely ; and his countenance soon 
Brighten'd with joy ; for murmurings from within 
Were heard, sonorous cadences ! whereby, 
To his belief, the monitor expreas'd 
Mysterious union with its native sea. 
Even such a Shell the universe itself 
Is to the ear of faith. 

In Landor's general criticisms on Wordsworth's poetry, 
from this time forward, there is perceptible less change of 
tone than in those on his person. The great achievement 
of Wordsworth, his poetical revelation of a sympathy, more 
close and binding than had ever before been expressed in 
words, between the hearts of nature and of man, had in it 
too much of the metaphysical for Landor at any time fully 
to appreciate. But noAV as formerly, Wordsworth re- 
mained for Landor a fine poet, although marred by puer- 
ility and dulness ; the best of all poets of country life ; 
the author of the best sonnets, after one or two of Milton, 
in the language, and in his Laodamia of at least one poem 
classical both in thought and expression. 


un AT BATS— MUMAS-^D&uanc*— LAir rRcrr— 



Dvsjxo Um two mieiiMliw! ywn Uiat kSkmtd bii ntem 
to Fighiid, Laador, m we hare nen, eonttnned to writ* 
•• iadMtriowlj ta avar. 2C«thar ia than pawapliMa in 
tiM worinaa pfodoead tiM akadow of aaj aarara iawaid 
a U ^g Kl a or dJatiiaa. Did Laador tban laaUy, wa caBBoi 
Im^ aikiag ouadraa, ImI ynrj daaply tha Iveaking «p of 
kk baairtiftd IlaliaB hoaa or aotf A tm jmm h^hm 
ba eoiild Dol bear hk ehiUrai to ba o«l of hia alghl aran 
foradij; didbaaaffBr aawa ahoold bar* ao^aolad bin 
to aaftr at bk toUl aipamtioa ham tbam aovf 

TbapoaMof wUeb ■aaHmi baa bai aada ia tba bwl 
dMplar tiaala of tbair |iliawiii aad o ae q palio — al tba 
VHk Obafttdaaoa ia a tOM of aJiBtioMti, but bj ao 

writlaa «l ToR|Mj ia 1837 kmabaa oa tba 

in a atin ligblar ataia. A brief aad ptolably 

wbal aatfiar UnmO to Itml^, ia bhak tmb^ Ii 

gooddaalgKfw ia ila loaa; bol tbaoalj 

cepi oaea or lariea ia bia kttan^ ia which 

wiUaa of bii abatyd lifc ia a ateia al aU 

ias d eapoa dancy , ia ia tba fcDowiag art of 

172 LANDOR. [chap. 

composed on one of his birthdays ; verses wj^.ich happen 
also to be among his best ; classically simple and straight- 
forward in thought and diction, and in cadence unusually 
full and solemn : — 

The day returns, my natal day. 

Borne on the storm and pale with snow, 

And seems to ask me why I stay. 
Stricken by Time and bow'd by Woe, 

Many were once the friends who came 
To wish me joy ; and there are some 

Who wish it now ; but not the same ; 

They are whence friends can never come ; 

Nor are they yon my love watcht o'er 

Cradled in innocence and sleep ; 
You smile into my eyes no more, 

Nor see the bitter tears they weep. 

The same question which we have thus been led to ask 
ourselves as to the depth or lack of depth in Landor's 
private and domestic feelings, seems to have been addressed 
to him in person by some friend about this time. Here 
is his reply : — 

So, then, I feel not deeply ! if I did, 

I should have seized the pen and pierced therewith 

The passive world ! 

And thus thou reasonest ? 
Well hast thou known the lover's, not so well 
The poet's heart : while that heart bleeds, the hand 
Presses it close. Grief must run on and pass 
Into near Memory's more quiet shade 
Before it can compose itself in song. 
He who is agonized and turns to show 
His agony to those who sit around. 
Seizes the pen in vain : thought, fancy, power, 
Eush back into his bosom ; all the strength 
Of genius cannot draw them into light 
From under mastering Grief; but Memory, 

vii.J UTB AT BATH. 173 

TW Xsm's moIIiw, BiiM, nan tlMn i^ 
laAmns aad kn|i* tk«m with har all b« dajs. 

A4 A cntkil idkotiMi «l gMMnd mplkttioa, Umv k 
iialiniB UMtlMNi|^kfln«ipnMBdwiihao modigmoe- 
^iilnaaa and piwwon ; boi aa aolring the point nund 
itt nlstioii to LaBdor'a ovn ^^'"■"♦' ff^ tbo smwht cui 
hanUybttaluBMadBeMit. W«arailmaemb«OQUie<»e 
hand that hia ptmripira» both in life and literature, tended 
towawk tin wippuMiiHi nd cootwl of maatitm mtlwr than 
towvda ili indolganoe and diqiby. In life hia amWtfciii 
waa to walk " with Epicorua on the right hand and £pio- 
tetiH <m the laft:" in literature, to attain the halaaoa and 
aetf^ovKaanoa oT the Qreeka. For the Ipomt dfart, 
Landoc'a nhaiaalMr caAtted him ; hia t o an wi a niwi l waa 
loo iinaig for hia philoaophy ; in the latter ofctt ha 8ne> 
oeadad, aad a past of tha paeahw qnalt^ of hia writing 
paoeaada bom ila axpiiMioa of the moil iapatooaa fBaliagi 
aadjadfBMataiaaalyle of ehaaieal aohdaty and iiwa ru. 
Dvl alfltapty aa waa Luidor*a natoia apoa the aorfeoa, 
wa iMj atall donbi whether ito daptha warn avir ao 
•tioagly aorad Vjr the thiofi of veal life aa by the thii^ia 
ofiiwfhMrinn The bitlareai taaia ha ahed wooU aaaaa 
bj hie own c io ttfe M im to have been thoaa whiah ware 
Jmwn ttam Idm, aoi by the eocrowa and aatmi^HMBta 
>'f hia own ex p a ri e no e , bat by BMnriag peaa^aa of liten- 
Ko^aadtha BidbttaMa of old-worid haroiMi aad hMoaa. 
'lioalthii^''hewritea to Lady IMeaaiwgtoa, " aw real 
to BM aaoapl raalitieik** The realitiaa mareofar which 
did aflael him ware ahiafly tha nahtiaa of t»dtj, aad 
nol thoaa of yaal^dy or to-aaooNnr. A waadt oaea 
made, a tie oaea brokaa, he eoahl a wwmaada to hiav^ 
without too MHh aafbriiv to tha aha^a. ITiilhv 
tha aeaaa of coatiBaity aor the anM of iiapwanflHi 

174 LANDOK. [chap. 

in human relations seems to liave been practically very 
strong in him. The injury done to his children by 
leaving them subject to no discipline at such an age and 
in such surroundings, Avould appear hardly to have 
weighed on Landor's mind at all, and that it failed to do 
so is, I think, the most serious blot upon his character. 

His own answer would have been that to separate the 
children from their mother would have been cruel, and to 
let them continue witnesses of her altercations with him- 
self, impossible. The visits which as they grew up they 
came at long intervals to pay him in England, were at first 
ardently anticipated, but failed to lead to any relations of 
close or lasting sympathy. In all that concerned their 
material welfare, he had in the meanwhile shown himself 
as unreservedly generous as ever. Landor's estates of 
Llanthony and Ipsley were yielding at tliis time upwards 
of three thousand pounds a year, of which mortgages and 
insurances absorbed every year about fourteen hundred. 
Out of the remaining sixteen hundred a year, he had 
been in the habit during his life at Fiesole of spending 
altogether not much over six, allowing the balance to 
accumulate for the benefit of his younger children. When 
he left Fiesole, he dispossessed himself, in the iaterest of 
his eldest son Arnold, of his property in the villa, with 
its farms and gardens, which of themselves were almost 
sufficient for the support of the family. At the same 
time he made over to Mrs. Landor two-thirds of the 
income which he had been accustomed to spend while 
they were all under one roof, reserving to himself the 
other third only, that is about two hundred pounds a 
year. Finding this after a year or two's experience in 
England insufficient, he allowed himself as much more 
out of the share hitherto sufi'ered to accumulate for the 

ni. j Un AT BATH. ITS 

.1 iiiiifM duUran, SMldag tarn himdnd poandi a jmt in 
tU. On this tneouM Luidor lived, and wm perfectly con- 
teal to live, in ih» aolituy booM whUti ba had hj Uiie 
Ubm midd for himnlf ta n Btth lodging. 

Hie iolitade was nol moroee or defroid of cowoln- 
tione. In Bath itaelf ha fimnd frienda altar hie own 
Iteart, and fiiai among them Colonel, afterwaida Sir 
\\'tlltam, Napier, the hiatorian of the Faninaalar War, with 
wfaooi tat jeaa it vaa Landor^ habil to qtaad a part of 
ahnoal areiy day. Ha enjoyed moraorer the tander 
regard and devotaon of hia wife'a nieee^ Tersaita Stopftiid, 
aHarwavda Lady Chailaa Beancletk, aa trail aa of 
yooig lady, Boee PqnUer, now Lady Sawle, a 
•f the Aylmrr fiumly, wboaa name and lineage lOTived 
old daya and okl affecitiona in hia aund. He waa 
^ o CT lomed dniii^ the aaiUar part of hia Bath life to pay 
riala nearly every year to a eeitain nnmher of choeen 
fri«MK and sort ngilariy of aU to Lady TOwaaii^op. 
Thinmlnwil tha long atrain and iaver of bar brilliant, 
ufflgnlar aocial eaiaor at Oora Hooee, baaai by eaiea and 
<-RnHa, and bard praaaed by tha conee q naacea of h«r own 
lod lyOnay'a profaaiua, thia kdy never bat tha trarmth 
and aoMlMBqr of heart vbieh en mnij aeeompany 
piwtawi o na boapjtality, yel withooi vbieh boapilality ia 
bnt dnat and aabeiL 8ha tai^t Landor to n^ Goie 
Umn at a Iriad nf aamnd bnma^ and ha namalo antaitain 
qaile a tender fnliag ftr the room wbieh waa alwaya kepi 
fur him then^ and eapeeially for a eartain lihw and a 
certain laanl thrt aaad to eoma into bloaaom abont the 
Uaw of hia ymily virik At Gore Honm ho Mad% aad 
(rom taaw to tiam refreahed, an awiaaiatanea with aauiy 
-*"- g^^-^l^l,, , ^,, „y^,„ n,^ iMi^glBalillH 

lliB ekaart Ikknda of that ganlioa warn Fontar and 

176 LANDOR. [chap. 

Dickens, who attached themselves to him, the former 
especially, with an enthusiastic warmth of admiration and 
regard. Besides Lady Blessingtou, we find Landor in 
the habit of paying visits to his old friend Kenyon at 
Wimbledon, to Julius Hare, now installed as archdeacon 
at the family living of Hurstraonceaux, to Ablett in 
Wales, to Lord Xugent near Aylesbury, to Sir William 
Molesworth at Pencarrow, to his brother Robert in his 
beautiful rectory at Birlingham, to his sisters at Warwick, 
and to his wife's sisters at Eichmond. 

Wherever Landor went he made the same impression, 
which was that of a king and a lion among men. In ap- 
pearance he had gained greatly with age. As sturdy and as 
florid as ever, he was now in addition beautifully venerable. 
His bold and keen grey eyes retained all their power, his 
teeth remained perfectly strong and white, but his fore- 
head had become bald and singularly imposing, high- 
vaulted, broad and full beneath its thick white fringe of 
backward-flowing hair. Every man's face, as has been 
truly said, is in great part his own making ; and the 
characters which time had imj)rintcd on Landor's were 
not those of his transient bursts of fury, but those of his 
habitual moods of lofty thought and tender feeling. All 
the lines of his countenance were large and, except when 
the fit was upon him, fuU of benignity, his smile especially 
being of an inexpressible sweetness. His movements were 
correspondingly massive, but at the same time clumsy ; 
not, of course, with the clumsiness of ill-breeding, but 
rather with that of aimlessness and inefficiency. The 
physical signs of the unpractical man were indeed all of 
them written upon Landor. He had short arms, with 
constrained movements of the elbows, and even when 
his fists were clenched iu wrath, there was a noticeable 

Tu 1 '- r\Tn. 

abotti lue uiombiy ft thing nerer yet nen to 
toBMitj of piMliadwiOor teel in pmrtieftl 
tlflslii^ He woaid pat hia ■ pucihwl w up orar his 
fowliwrt, and aflar ofranaittag erwjtliiBg in IIm wikkit 
for tkan, mlnH KimHlf with dcipcnto mig. 
to tkair kMn In ttrnToUing he woold gfre him. 
•elfvoilibof troable to leneMber the kqr oT hk pert- 
imrtiH, boi vtlatiy fiai«rt the portMHteea ilMlf ; ead 
when he dtoeovend thel he hed loet it, he voold humdi 
oqtiatoenejqueUiagpieteeofthetieechery t nd< l ep t» y ity 
of the MJhray nUniali eoaewned, md d their fctheie and 
to the waaotaat giMitiiai. Kezt, after e 
re aknee^ the humnow nkm of the eaaa voold 
itnll to hiB,aBd he voold bagia tolapgh, qnetly 
et ialt and than in louder aad eier looder toUayai until 
the RMW ahook egna, and the oowmnthM i eeeBodaaif it 
wodd Berer atop. Tbeae teapeate of hOerity eeaeMd to 
of Laadot'e ftiaBde ahMoal m fimddahle m the 
of u^m to whieh he ooBtiBMd to be etrigeet et 
the a ipk i Mu of e oo at wdbtton or a aiigbi Boftboth 
were wall voith M datg oi^g lir the eake of ewh noble 
and wfanlng eoapeaj ee wna that of Leader in hia 
oiUiaerj hmmmIb. TImb not only waa hia talk ineompaiahly 
rich a^ AdI, it «M deiheNd vith aneh n eonlty eiMBB 

oU-worid gmee of utteraaea ee ware inaajatnili. Hie 
?oiee^ eapeeiaUy m icadiqg alood, trae aa ajw|iilhelhi ae 
itvaapovetftd; *'ibMaeia an ila loaei^vhelharflairtle 
or fleroe," aaya Locd Hiwghtoa ; deap^ lieh, ead Uke the 
aobleat aaHie, •* with a mmO, iaeitiAeial ^vim alRkii« 
to the heart," addeaaether ■ilnew ahu by^ad^yeliiabii 
hanelf to the gnad old aea with a ilial devalioa, and 
who haa Ml w the Beat Ufa^ikaaBvell ea the 

178 LANDOE. [chap. 

tionate portrait of liim during these years.^ His pronuncia- 
tion of certain words was that traditional in many old 
English families ; " yaller " and " lay lock " for yellow and 
lilac, "goold," "Eoom," and " woonderful," for gold, 
Eome, and wonderful. 

Even at his wildest, Landor's demeanour to his pet 
animals furnished assurance enough that his fury was 
much more loud than deep, and that the quality most 
rooted in his nature was its gentleness. Dickens has 
best embodied this impression in his character of Mr. Boy- 
thom in Bleak House, which is drawn, as is well known, 
from Landor, with his intellectual greatness left out. We all 
remember how Mr. Boythorn softly caresses his canary with 
his forefinger, at the same time as he thunders out defiance 
and revenge against Sir Leicester Dedlock ; " He brings 
actions for trespass ; I bring actions for trespass. He brings 
actions for assault and battery ; I defend them, and con- 
tinue to assault and batter. Ha ! Ha ! Ha ! " Landor's 
great pet in these days was not really a canary, but a 
yellow Pomeranian dog, all vivacity, affection, and noise, 
who was sent him from Fiesole in 1844, and became the 
delight and companion of his life. With " Pomero " 
Landor would prattle in English and Italian as affectio- 
nately as a mother with her child. Pomero was his dar- 
ling, the wisest and most beautiful of his race ; Pomero 
had the brightest eyes and the most woondcrful yaller tail 
ever seen. Sometimes it was Landor's humour to quote 
Pomero in speech and writing as a kind of sagacious 
elder brother, whose opinion had to be consulted on all 
subjects before he would deliver his own. This creature 
accompanied his master wherever he went, barking " not 

1 See Prefatory Note, No. 10. 

Til.] TTT 17> 

Bate- * ' ' ' ■ n 

thev .< 

: to watch the pet^ito pMring in the rtiwt, 

ip in his baskek vntil LuMki^ in talk 

. bnpin to Itag^ and hit kqgjh to glow 

and grov, whas Fomwo wonld q^ting ap, and lei^ upon 

' about hioi, btriung and aereaming foraynqpatby 

wlMfeatnakiammdad. IlMtwotogBllMi^ «aatar 

iot jmn to be eneonBtand daily on their 

"-'h and ito Tidnity, and thara are mtaj 

U remfloiber them ; the n^feitia old 

a whit the kaa Imptanto tat hfa 

* " wn adty hie bolging boota, hie 

jottated hal; and hie bomj, aoft- 

baucd, quick-glancing^ inaiiaiabla eompaninn. 

lAndor'e habito warn to btaalfiil at nine^ and vnte 
ptfawbiallj beCMa BOOB* Hie mode oCwntiiigwaapeenltar; 
he wonU ait ablotbed in appamntty raeant ^i***^*! bat 
inwaidlj giving the flwiriiing toodiea to the Tenaa or the 
periodj whieh he had bMt bean BatniBg whOe he walked 
or hkj awake al night; when he waa iwdj, he wonkl 
niaa anddaolj on one of thn Many aeapa of paper and 
one of the auuiy atooipaof awan'a^uill that OMally hqr al 
hand; and wonhtwritadowa what waeiahfa bind htily, 
in hie roqgh doping ch a mt l ani, apnwliBg or eompraawd 
aeeoidinglo the apeee, and dry the written paper in the 
aahaft At two ha dined, either alone or in the eonqpany 
of aoHM aingii ikvomed Mend, oAan on Tiaadi whkh he 
had hiaaelf ****iy|^f and draned, and with the *f*'FTff rf < wi- 

of a fcw giaMa of MHM fluBOM TinUfa ftoM Ihn ftafly 
oaOar. In the aflamooB he walkad eeveeil Milai in «!! 
hariBg n apedal pntemaa fiw n Tillage 

9 a 

180 LANDOR. [chap. 

Bath, Widcombe, in the beautiful churchyard of which 
he had now determined that he should be buried. From 
about seven in the evening, after the simplest possible 
tea, he generally read till late at night. His walls were 
covered with bad pictures, which he bought cheap, as 
formerly from the dealers of Florence, so now from those 
of Bath, and which his imagination endowed with every 
sign and every circumstance of authenticity. 

In this manner twenty long years went by, during 
which Landor passed with little abatement of strength 
from elderly to patriarchal age. As time went on the 
habits of his life changed almost imperceptibly. The cir- 
cuit of his walks grew narrower ; his visits to London 
and elsewhere less frequent. His friends of the younger 
generation, Dickens and Forster especially and without 
fail, were accustomed every year to run down to Bath and 
bear him company on his birthday, the 30th of January. 
Carlyle, whose temper of hero-worship found much that 
was congenial in Landor's writings, and who delighted in 
the sterling and vigorous qualities of the man, once made 
the same journey in order to visit him. I do not know 
whether the invitation was ever accepted which Landor 
addressed to another illustrious junior in the following 
scrap of friendly doggrel. 

T entreat you, Alfred Tennyson, 

Come and share my haunch of venison. 

I have too a bin of claret, 

Good, but better when you share it. 

Tho* 'tis only a small bin, 

There's a stock of it within. 

And as sure as I'm a rhymer, 

Half a butt of Rudesheimer, 

Come ; among the sons of men is one 

Welcomer than Alfred Tennyson ? 

nuj UFS AT BATU. 181 

With wenil uf Um joungw poeU and meu of letten of 
thoM dMjM, Laador^a pvonpi and eoidial VMOgnition of 
IttnnT axMOaBea had put ^* w on tnniii of tha lUaiidlieit 
•ad ngprd. Bat hia flnaoda of Id* own 
to fidl aboat him 

W« hany lo Iks livw wa an 

Abb ■wiflv aamNvaifi vwy anlalflp ' 
Happj wIk» mch it «c« tbqr ooaat tka Iom 

or lair tlMir CmlliM aad Mr thak friMfdi.'' 

Tbaa Laador had writtaa in hia oda to Sonthaj in 1833. 
Six 7«an latar Sonthay'a mind had aoddanlj giTao waj, 
and in 1843 ha diad, tha mom of dador ^ni« baaa 
of tha laat opon hit lifia whila a gUauaanag of eoa- 
raauuned to hioL Of Um Taiioos tabotaa to hia 
vhidi Lndor wroU at tha tiau^ thai ia tha 
Comof avinoa, Iwgiiining 

It wa> a ihw. ah ! wkaft !• m4 a drtaai P 

far it* )iaautj, lingularity, and tandar> 
Fiaaeit Haia hid diad in auddla i«a at BiktBW 
thiaa yaan aaiiioc. Luidoi'a ant gnat kw vaa that of 
hia daar ftkad aad loyal adaiiiar Ahloll» who diad ia 
184S. Within two yonilbOowwl tha death of iMMka'a 
Wothar Chariai^aad ahMOil al tha mmm tiaw that of 
I^y Wiwriaglon. Tha loog^Bpandiag cnah had ai ImI 
ofirtikMi tha wtahliAi— t ia Oon Ho«h; tha 
itaalfhadhamaoUvithatlttB eoatstaaad 
Gooatdtlniijhadfallowad tha fbftnaat of Looii Napo- 
laoa to Aaaeib vhilhar Lady Bairii«loa aooa waat aln» 
aad whan aha diad ia If50 at 81. OnaMia. itgua 
I«ndor baa eoauMBMntad hia aSntfaat aad hia ombo of 
ha* loaa ia hia halt tola of gwe a lhl aad Mad i t rti ta ir—a. 
It had baaa om of Laadoc^ pnt ooMokiioM darii« a 

182 LANDOR. [chap. 

portion of his life at Bath that Madame de Molande had 
heen living in that city ^vith her grandchildren. In 
August, 1851, she too died in France. It was just 
forty-five years since he had written his lament for the 
necessity which forced them to part in the days of their 
early passion : — 

lanthe, thou art called across the sea, 
A path forbidden me ! 

Let us quote in this connexion, not any of the commem- 
morative lines which Landor wrote on receiving the news 
of her death, but rather those other verses of grave 
self-confidence and assui-ed appeal to the ages with which, 
it does not appear precisely at what date, he set a fitting 
and final seal on the poetry referring to this episode of 
his life. 

Well I remember how you smiled 

To see me write your name upon 
The soft sea-sand. . . ! wliat a child ! 

Tou tlmik you're writing, upon stone ! 
I have since written what no tide 

Shall ever wash away, what men 
Unborn shall read o'er ocean wide. 

And find lanthe's name again. 

AU these deaths would naturally have prepared Landor's 
mind for his own, had he stood in need of such prepara- 
tion. But he had long faced that contingency with the 
same composure with which others are encouraged to face 
it in so many of his tender and heroic admonitions. Of each 
successive hirthday as it came round he felt as though it 
might naturally be his last. It was on the morning after 
his seventy-fifth that he wrote and read aloud before 
breakfast those lines which he afterwards prefixed to the 
volume called Lad Fruit : — 

ni] Un AT BATH. IM 

1 auxn^ «riik boo*, tar MM* wa« wofth mj sUilip, 
KmUf I loffvd, Md, mH to pUmn, Ait ; 
bolk WiBds bdbn ik« iM of Uiii 

It smlo^ and I •» tmiij to dipvt. 

Infiaitoly tooddng Memed Ut dignHtwl, fajgned air aod 
bMatifol manly Toioe to the gjrliih 6i«nd whom be at thia 
tiato caDed dng^m, md who wm etinding ty aa he wad ; 
aad what he anr hov he had hrooi^ the teas faito her 
eyea, the old man eaae aenaa and patted her dioaldar, iay- 
iag^ * My good child 1 I reaDy think yoo lore your Cither 
afaMateBveUaaPooMiodoea.'' But theemimwetodepeit 
wae iVa<IiiMd to eone to many another yet of thoae dear 
to Undor heftm il eaaM to UnaaUl Within three yena 
after the leeaea kit iMirtkNMd, then faOoved thoae of hie 
aiator Himbeth and of hieever-fiuthfttl friend, tiie aeeooi- 
pliihed and poo^Meited JoKoe Haie. By hk lipi^ aa by 
BoatiiqrX lABdoi'a wae one of the hat oameeerer^wken. 
Neacft weiit Keayoa ; and next* haTing Umd bayoid the 
ew—Mi age of hie kind, died Tom&n, leaving the dafly 
totaliuM of the oU nan more akne than ef«r. 

Bat it ia tiam that we ahooU go baek, and aaqpibt 
oanalvea with the Mtara of the work fai Ktanlna whieh 
i«ndor had bean doing doiiag tUi hmg aatomn of bu 
life in Engiaad. Kb whole litmaiy eanor may beat, I 
tbink, be divided fado three perioda; the iiat oftwmity. 
nx yean, (vom 1795 to I8S1 ; the eeeond ofairtaan, from 
1831 to 1837 ; and the third, ineradible m it eovnda, 
i«Biaortwmity4ix, from 1887 to 186S. The tmt period, 
as we bare aaan, waa one of e ip a riai a nt only partially 
Mieitona; BTpaiiawl chioay fai the hjgbeat kiada of 
poatiyand in the tmkm maploymil of Ltflin iir ^ 
porpoam of crjghml medera writiag ; iti ptjaeipal aahlavii- 
aie GMr, ObmU /aljmn indtha MgOlm Bmvkak. 

184 LANDOE. [chap. 

Tlie second period, from 1821 to 1837, that is from 
Landor's forty-sixth year to his sixty-second, is the period 
of his central and greatest work, consisting chiefly of 
dramatic or quasi-dramatic writings in prose ; its princi- 
pal achievements are the Imaginary Conversations, the 
Examination of Shakspeare, Pericles and Aspasia, and 
the Pentameron. The third period, upon which we have 
now entered, includes all the rest of Landor's life from his 
sixty-second year to his eighty-eighth (1837 — 1863), and 
is one of miscellaneous production in many kinds of writing, 
with a preponderance on the whole of verse. From com- 
position in one form or another Landor never rested long. 
He declared over and over again his unalterable resolution 
to give up writing, sometimes in a fit of disgust, sometimes 
lest as he grew older his powers shoidd fail him unawares. 
But such resolutions were no sooner made than broken. 
He worked now to satisfy his own impulse, now to please 
a friend who was also an editor. In all his literary 
undertakings throughout this third period, he was in. the 
habit of acting on the advice and with the help of Mr. 
Forster ; advice generally discreet, and help at all times 
ungrudging. The misfortune is that this most unselfish 
of friends should have proved also the least self-forgetful 
of biographers, and the least capable of keeping his own 
services in the background. 

Landor's first important publication during the Bath 
period was in the form of dramatic verse. Being laid up 
with a sprained ancle, he occupied himself with com- 
posing first one play and then another on the story of 
Giovanna of Xaples. In reality that story is as dark 
with crime and uncertainty, and as lightning-lit with 
flashes of romance, and with the speU of beauty accused 
yet worshipped, as is the story of Mary Queen of Scots 


n of it conwpondi to mmm ihtti 
'. "* I am A hoRibleeonfoaiidAr <^ 
K ." ho writML ** I hftT* iHwIly one hklorj 

t rid anoilMr tlMt I 1mv« invwited." It 

y thai he at a BMtter of eovne took 
h« fiiToomble riew of tho qneon's chancier, and like hie 
hatiedof the Boakh ptiaalhood that he nttde the oowi 
iiwiiMai, Fm Bapert^ the TiBaiB of hb plot aad the 
ooBlriTirof the mofder of the queen'* hatband. The fiist 
of hia two pkji Laador MUBed after the Tietim of the 
Bmdei^ Aadvaa of H a a gar y ; the eeeoad after the queen 
henatl The Tolome i4>|wand in 1839, with a pro- 
logue in vena addiwwid to Ua 7001^ friend ** Boee," and 
annrtJHMtian that the proAti of the aala ««m ialMided 
io he handed orer to Gnee Darling. From fini to laet it 
«M Laador^ hahit thoa to deatine to aome eharitaUe 
ol^ the ptoAli wUeh ia pattet good faith, aad in 
deAaaee of nitawted a Kp i ai e n et^ hia imagination in- 
Tariahly a ntaipa te d ftoa the aala of hia worka 

WitUaaeooplaof ycanlMdorhadwfitleB and pob- 
liAad MpiiBlily yaiaaolhar play, whieh aoaiplated thia 
Xnpdtea trilogy, aad vUeh he called after the aane 
of the TiUaia #y« Aipert The aeaoae of thk trilogy an 

qaaaea aa Onml JmUam itmU. Thay an pttahad ia a 
lower key, and written with aiora Taiiety of atyle, 
than thai awmiHgrted aad Tllaaie ta^adty. The aha- 
raelarof the yo«« kii«^ with hia hooikh tnfarfi« aad 
hia ehirafaoaa nataia, fran the n jgieela d aoil of whieh 
all the ktoBl Tirtan an dnwa fcilh by the kiHa^ 
wiodoai of Qiovwaa, ia a aav eo ue ap ti e a a inll M tly 
worind oat The <gan of Fka Bapari, oa the otiMr 
haad,aBd that of Biaaa,aaon la an ^rpaa 

186 LANDOR. [chap. 

boyish and overclaarged, the one of brutal c-oarscness and 
brutal craft, the other of the demoralization consequent 
upon the exercise of unlimited power. Among the femi- 
nine personages we find, as always in the work of Landor, 
the most beautifully conceived traits of great-hearted sweet- 
ness and devotion ; varied, however, in lighter moments 
with others like the following : — 

Any one now would say you thought me handsome, 

exclaims Fiammetta to Boccaccio ; a royal princess, be it 
remembered, to a clerkly and courtly poet. Taken as 
collections of separate scenes, these plays, unsatisfactory 
as plays, are full of fine feeling, and of solid activity 
and ingenuity of conception. A curious point in re- 
lation to the second of the three is that it bears in 
some points of plot and situation a remarkably close 
resemblance to a tragedy on the same subject pub- 
lished anonymously fifteen years before under the title 
of Count Arezzi. This piece vv^hen it appeared had by 
some been taken for the work of Byron, and for a 
few days had been on that account in much demand. Its 
real author had been no other than Landor 's own brother 
Robert. When the resemblance was brought to "Walter 
Landor's notice he seemed utterly unable to account for it, 
having to the best of his knowledge never either seen or 
heard of Count Arezzi. But he was subject to forgetful- 
ness equally complete when, after the lapse of a few 
years, passages of his own writing were recited to him ; 
and the impression retained by Mr. Eobert Landor was 
that his brother must have read his play when it first 
appeared, and forgetting the fact afterwards, preserved 
portions of it in his mind by an act of purely unconscious 
recollection. Li conduct and construction, indeed, the 

Mr' DRA1IA& 187 

|iU>« wnU«a by Bobflrt Luidot an beticr than any by 
hit iUmlriovt brotiiei; Than waa much in con m oB 
' •olwiia the two nm. Bobeit Landor had neariy «T«ry> 
Oaag ti Wallar axeapl tha piwionata aoaigy of hia 
twnpiinwit and hia gaaioa. Ha waa an adwiiahla 
aehdar, and in hia dtaoMa <rf Cbunl Areai, Tk$ JSaH of 
Bneom, FaUA^s liramd, and 7%a Ftnymam, and hk di- 
daelie iowmoei, The Fom^mm o/Arttkmm and tha Famt 
</ Omiot imn, ha ahowa himalf aaalar of a locnd Ea^^Sth 
Hyla aad a pore and Tigotooa rein of finding and uiTBa- 
ioB. PecHmaUy, ba waa tha ptinea of gantfaman ; of a 
notably Ena laaaaiiiat taller than haa aUaal brathar, and 
of aqoally diatiagaUiad baanqg, without hia broihai'a 
aadbilttiaiL Ha had tha aanM taata for aadoMoa, and 
vadabMit vnkaown at hia baaatiftil laetoiy of BidJag- 
luuB, aoBtuntad with hia modaii pritata foitana^ and 
spanding on charity the entira inooma of hia liring. AfWr 
tha bMlhaia had partad in 1816 at Cauo, a eoldaaaa had 
aiiMM batwaan thaas, and it waa (nly now, whan tha 
elder bad latamad to Knghnd, that they waio again oa 
tha <M tana of aataal aflnlioii and mpaei. 

Soon diar thfe tdkgy it wodd appaar thai landor 
wiola tha hat of hia oo i plata {dayi^ tha Siege </ilaeona. 
Tbia aiiljaiit, nilh ila hjuli pilifcail biiiiAiaM, ilaiMliiolhina 
and iwrineibimiai^ aidlad iMdor waD, and tha pby, 
although tha laait notiaad by hia critloa, b I think vpon 
tha whola hia beat I do not know whathar it waa of 
thaaa kmt dmaaa and of Cooat Jnlian im miioial, or of 
all Landor^ iJMatia aad umi lwi<iii writii^ to- 
gathai^ that Mr. BNwnfa^ waa thinkiBg whaa • inr yaaia 
lalvhadidiaatad to liiilnr. ii "ifliiat iliawairiniiiil " 
tha vofaoM niihiiniag hiaowa two phqroof Lmrim and tlia 
Simr» Trageilff, Iha kMar wiittaB by tha aUar poal in 

188 LAXDOR. [chap. 

acknowledgment of this tribute from the jounger is so 
characteristic alike of his genial friendliness to his brother 
authors, and of the broad and manly justice of his ha- 
bitual criticisms both on himself and others, that I cannot 
deny myself the pleasure of quoting it. 

Accept my thanks for the richest of Easter offerings made to 
any one for many years. I staid at home last evening on pur- 
pose to read Luria, and if I lost any good music (as I certainly 
did) I was well compensated in kind. To-day I intend to 
devote the rainy hours entirely to The Soul's Tragedy. I 
wonder whether I shall find it as excellent as Luria. You have 
conferred too high a distinction on me in your graceful inscrip- 
tion. I am more of a dramatist in prose than in poetry. My 
imagination, like my heart, has alwa3's been with the women, I 
mean the young, for I cannot separate that adjective from 
that substantive. This has taught me above all things the 
immeasurable superiority of Shakespeare. His women raise 
him to it. I mean the immensity of the superiority ; the 
superiority would exist without. I am sometimes ready to 
shed tears at his degradation in Comedy. I would almost have 
given the first joint of my fore-finger rather than he should 
have written, for instance, such trash as that in the Two 
Gentlemen of Verona. His wit is pounded, and spiced, and 
potted, and covered with rancidity at last. A glass of cham- 
pagne at Moliere's is very refreshing after this British spirit. 
Go on and pass us poor devils ! If you do not go far ahead of 
me, I will crack my whip at you and make you spring forward. 
So to use a phrase of Queen Elizabeth, 

"Yours as you demean yourself," 

W. Landoe. 

Returning to the years 1839-42, Landor in this in- 
terval, besides his trilogy of plays, published in j\Ir. 
Forster's review, and at his request, Criticisms in his 
ripest and soundest vein, on Theocritus, Catullus, and 
Petrarch ; and by the advice of the same friend withheld 
from publication a reply to an adverse review of the 

»!!.) COLLKnTf n^'n^TQ. 19 

Pmimmnm which h« at the ump, aj^MnoUj id error, 
iMritalad to Halkm. In thii nply Lindor had both 
JifaMkd aad wppl— wnlad the Tiew of Danla which he 
had p«t Ibrwud ia the Deeamarui, and had in hii 
gnMlaai naaaw aal Ibrth vfaal ha eoaceiirad to be the 
qiMliiilfawa nin— ly Cw the right apptedatioii of that 

Mr. Laador hea ao aw qawHpati the Mihliaulj or the pro- 
foaadaeM of Daatib tkaa hb riadwa will ^aeitioa whather he 
orhie<ritiei»theaMr»<eaiptto«ttoBiiaiiiithea^ TBJtedf* 
liifljriad aiwinhieilinlyef Daa<»totthepetHial«fad 
U reiahiti; thea. falieat iadaatiy hi ai|l«h« the mrfca «f 
kii eeainafenuiMt aad ia feiaf haek eeoaieaallj to theae 
TetoMaef theaheebMBwhieh Be iftwaeat b the Hbrariei of 
hkaativerfty. Pkeilable too aie enanieae hi Yal d'Arao aad 
Val d^M^ aad ta thoM deep ri caww of the Apcaaiaw when 
\hm Mtr leagaefa ii jti abidiag ia iU rigid itieagth aad fnak 
aacUritj. TwHity Ttara aad aahnk«i l ei eaie hate afbrded to 
Mr. Leader aeiMU pettiaa ef eaeh advaat^ei^ at kait ef the 

num wmt, 

la the thiaa or fov yeaa faUowing the pwdnetion of 
theae phija and eritieiMB% T^iwH^ waa oeaniad alnoat 
entJwJjy ia ptaparf^ for pteei^ with tha JialeiiHgihle help 
ofMr. Fonter,aeoDaeladaditiMorhiiwiitii«iL Itwai 
iti 184« that thia editiiMi at laagth appeand. Il eo»- 
taiaed tha whole BMMa of Laador^ work iwaipreeaail into 
two Ian fo lM nie ia lojal oetoTo» with tha tact ptiatad ia 
donblaeohnaaa; aanaatlaaetiTa aadiaeoB(f«laal ««Mg»> 
meat Thepriae^aoireltiee ia thaaollaetioawwe^iiat, 
the emiphawaiarj Co m mm i ti cm i e uo rwa d ftoai the li|jhi> 
heaitod oMtody of Mr. WiUii^ t<frthw with allMn 
vnitlMi doriagtha kat iflaea jaan» feHj-lwo ia aO ; aad 
next the Heltmim; eoMirtiog of tiaaehitioM iato EufKril 

190 LANDOE. [chap. 

blank verse, undertaken in the first instance^at the sugges- 
tion of Lady Blessington, of those IdylUa of Landor's 
in Latin the first edition of which had been printed 
at Oxford in 1814, and the second at Pisa in 1820; 
together with some others written originally in English, 
The dedications of the original Conversations were not re- 
printed, several of the patriots and liberators to whom 
they were addressed having in the interval precipitated 
themselves in Landor's esteem from the pinnacle of 
glory to the abyss of shame. To the two volumes was 
prefixed instead a brief inscription addressed in terms of 
grateful affection to Julius Hare and John Forster ; to the 
latter of whom a second address in verse brought the book 
to a close. 

So vast and so diversified a mass of energetic thinking 
and masterly writing it would within the compass of any 
other two volumes be hard to find. But one whole class of 
Landor's work, and his own favourite class, had found no 
place in them, T mean his Avork in Latin, and accordingly 
he next set about collecting, correcting, and in part re- 
writing his productions in that language, both prose and 
verse. By dint of infinite pains and zeal on his own part 
and on that of Mr. Forster, this final edition of his Latin 
writings Avas got through the press in 1847, in the shape 
of a small' closely printed volume called Poemata et In- 
scriptiones. In the meantime a feAV lovers of poetry had 
been much struck by the choice and singular quality 
of the Hellenics. Landor was encouraged to reprint 
these poems separately, and in the course of this same year 
they were issued by the house of Moxon, Avith additions 
and revisions, in one of those small volumes in green cloth 
Avhich the muse of Mr. Tennyson has so long made welcome 
and familiar to our eyes. 

Til] IIXLLIX1C& 191 

Tht iniMfTB indiTidiudity of Lindot^ alBd was aeeoai- 
panied, M w« lMT••eal^ by a many-cidad pofwwof hiitorieal 
sympathy, which BMde him at homa noi in ana only hoi 
in MTMal, and thoaa tha moal iliwiwilar, agaa of tha paat. 
ThaitMnaoaagnTity and haroio iadapendanea of Pohtan 
Kjiglaiid had antaiad into hia imaginatiTa beings aa w«U 
aalha fttlftitiwl snM and l ia ntiiii i m a aetf^oMmioa of 
ancient HaDaa. Bat of all things ha vaa paAapa the 
moai of a Giaak at heart Hit freedom from any ttnetoie 
of i^yitieanB, hia lore of onetmfriaed ahapea and ootlinaa^ 
hia eaay diamimal of tha nnfrlhomahia and tha onknovn, 
and atcady eoneantntion oi the mind npon tha ponly 
human tuiM of ftiiatmce, iti natttnl aonowa and natoial 
nnnanlatinna, all helped him to find in tha lilii of aneSani 
Graaea a ehann without aDoy, and in her aongi and her 
fthiloaophiet a beauty and a wiadom without ahotteoaing. 
Adaqnata aahohohipb and a doea litamy familiarity with 
tha Gtaak wiitaa^ foitiflad thk natnial aympathy with 
the knowledge which waa wantinj{ to Keata, whoae 
fladiea of Inminooa and ennpCorad inaight into things 
UaUenie are for want of sadi knowladga ladcii^ in 
eohacaney and in aeb uran eai Landor on his paii ia with- 
oul Kaal^a gift, tha bon poeHls gill, of enatm, intimhl 
feHeity in apithal and kngoaga ; his poww oirw hn^Mga 
i« of another kind, moresyrtematie, Imined, and ngnlar. 
!i«l in dealii^ with things HaOiBfeUMloritiskH gMM- 
raUy with oomplaU aasmuMa tha tnw iigiw i ti Ta Misb 
This is eqnaUy tha eaae whalhac^ as in Faielet mmd 
Atp9 M , and in hia dialggnaa of aaaisnl p hiln s nph wi and 
alBlasmsa, ha makea tha Grsaka th— silvm astol tha 
glociea of their mei^ at wheChar ha tmsls tha tipaailion 
ol thoaa gkriaa in the mootha of modam spcakan^ as 
when M irhahn gi to is made to ramittd YlMatia ColoMa 

192 LANDOE. [chap. 

of the conquests of the race in war and art, of Salamis 
and the Prometheus of ^schylus, together :— 

The conquerors of kings until then omnipotent, kings who 
had trampled on the towers of Babylon and had shaken the 
eternal sanctuaries of Thebes, the conquerors of those kings 
bowed their olive-crowned heads to the sceptre of Destiny, and 
their tears flowed profusely over the immeasurable wilderness 
of human woes. 

Hear, again, how Alfieri is made to correct the false 
taste of another Italian poet in his description of Pluto, 
and to draw in its place the true Greek picture of that 
god and of his kingdom. 

Does this describe the brother of Jupiter ? does it noL rather 
the devils of our carneval, than him at whose side, upon 
asphodel and amaranth, the sweet Persephone sits pensively 
contented, in that deep motionless quiet, which mortals pity 
and which the gods enjoy; than him who, under the umbrage 
of Elysium, gazes at once upon all the beauties that on earth 
were separated by times and countries . . Helena and Eriphyle, 
Polyxena and Hermione, Deidamia and Deianira, Leda and 
Omphale, Atalanta and Cydippe, Laodamia, with her arm 
around the neck of a fond youth, whom she still seems afraid 
of losing, and apart, the daughters of Niobe, though now in 
smiles, still clinging to their parent ; and many thousands 
more, each of whom is worth the dominions, once envied, of 
both brothers ? 

Landor was a less accomplished master in verse than 
prose, and we hardly find in the Hellenics anything 
equal to the lovely interlinked cadences, and the assured 
imaginative ease and justice, of passages like this. What 
we do find is an extreme, sometimes an excessive, 
simplicity and reserve both of rhythm and language, 
conveying, in many instances at least, a delightful 
succession of classical images; images not only lucid 


in tlMa»«lT«S( but boi* lueidl/ and iaieUi^Uj eon- 
iMcltd tium had li«ea Ltadot^ woai ia bis Miliar 
Mmthrv poetrj. Tb« Haamaiiyad and ita aaqnd, 
Atm tmd iMod^ of vbioh no LnUn oiigfaMl Ittd bam 
ftm eoMpOMd, tiMae with JBmBov owi CVModnMia aia, 
I ihink« th« cboieeal axamplaa of tha vein ; one or two of 
Um oHmtbi aMh m^km Aliar«fM<tdmi9, had ball« Imto 
ban lafl in tbair oiigfaial LMin. Tba gM, bowwvr, 
of tha Tofame, ia to my nind not any ooa of Bythologie 
talaa or idyK bat tha ktkmiag hnd, n/jputHtiy 
w wmht aeana of hiniihfiM ■oaaii^ Tha haabnid, 
Klpenor. atnda by tha badaida of tha wi^ 
and naaka >^ 

WlOa ihM ««rt Iji^ lyrtakat Iha 

Ba«o tiad Ite aMdys ta Iky ilaodar CmI» 

Aad rtaad bMida Ikaa, laady to eoBTqr 

Thj vaaty ttapa wtera tnhm ttnn taw. 

■ifliiAiiit dbmSm wta waft thj 

Awmj, aad voiaM Ite Uqr owm < 
mI aoHoil aa Haki 
. iigii'd. aad waald hmf piaM 

TW kaad aow igMiiag iMta, ba* waa tao weak. 

Ma ilae4 evar bar 4aA kdr aaMM 

Wfcfla Ihaa llpiaw ipaka. Babaktialo 

«]ra> Ikaa kai ghaa Hghl Md H* araaMla 

To tbooa abof* ttaa, bat aaar dfaa wkk tmn 
laas warvi laaa Hh varat^vy* 

BarbMdMbaaki aad ao» a laad dM^ atb 
SwdTd t^ai^ ibafcilaaM wba^bari 1«m ael I 

haraaaaB thoaa 
tmiidiB voiks of AMia aenlplua^ tha 
maata in wUeh tha death of tha balovwl k 
forth in a gwtqp iifiiaMitinn, oajy with a to^ah of 


194 LANDOR. [chap. 

solemnity in the expressions, liis or her pxpparations for 
departure upon an ordinary journey or an ordinary day's 
work. But his poem is conceived in the very spirit of 
those sculptures. Like all his best Avork, it has to be read 
repeatedly and slowly before it will be found to have 
yielded up the full depth and tenderness of its meanings. 
The beautj"- of the dying woman implied, not described ; 
the gentle dealings with her of the unseen messenger of 
the gods who has placed the sandals about her feet in 
sleep ; the solicitude of the husband, who as long as she 
breathes will speak to her only words of comfort ; his 
worship, which when he would tell her of the voices that 
will greet her beyond the tomb, can find no words to express 
their sweetness except by calling them "like her own;" 
the pressure with which she would, but cannot, answer 
him ; the quiver of the heart with which she expires 
upon the mention and the idea of joy — for what are those 
unknown and uncompanioned joys to her ? — the bursting 
of the floodgates of his grief when there is no longer any 
reason for restraining it ; these things are conceived with 
that depth and chastity of tenderness, that instinctive beauty 
in pathos, which Landoi- shares with none but the greatest 
masters of the human heart. If we are to let ourselves 
notice the presence of imperfections or mannerisms in 
so beautiful a piece of work and of feeling, it will be to 
point out the mode (habitual with Landor) in which the 
pronouns are made to do more work than they can well 
bear in the words " those above them ;" meaning the eyes of 
Elpenor, now, at the moment of the description, occu- 
pying a position above those of his wife, inasmuch as she 
is lying on the sick-bed and he standing over her. This 
is an instance of Landor's habit of excessive conden- 
sation ; just^ the last lines contain an instance of his 

hMk of Ucnuemaij STOidil^ lA naimiiYv, iuo tu.iiu loci 

of A ataAtaoo, aad whting iaiind mnm nnlt or eott- 
rtr fl^ Tt * of Um ritMHrm tnm which Um nad« » 
wquiw d to inliv Ha ■Mua AkI ibr himadt 
To thk 1847 edilioiiof Um UMUmU* JjoAm pcofjnd « 
in eapitia kitan, which it a mnmi— at al 
of tha magnilwiioa of hia praaa akyla and of tha 
poUtJoal MithwiaflB iriiich ranaiaad proof in 
fct^ Mainat avwr diaandtanlBMBtk Tha lihaval Oaidinal 
MMtei had jwl haaa alaelad Popa aa Pio Xooo^ and iir a 
wammk tha ayca of all Emopa wera tnniad in hopa 
towaidB tha aamr poatiH To him aamwdingly Laador 
iaaeribad hia hook. AAar a ooatiaai of Ida o p purtaa itiaa 
and hia pnrpoaea with thoae of Looia Philippa, tha inacrii>- 
tioQCOMfaKlaa ^— 

Caaaiaf it aoi wiadaai; praTariataon ia not poBej; and 
(aaral as tha notion it, it ia aqpallj trat) anniM aia not 
itni^: Aam and Walvloo dMw it. and tha iuMa of tha 
ffinnlia aail tlii ■ulitaiia of fnnfiiaUtaa Ona 
(MM wiM aaa, ona paaoffiJ auM, < 
witheat a Wien ana witlwnt a dMigw. Ha 
la ffataal hia : ha alandi Ufhar tiMn any aitnU aan 
hiai.Wightfy oHattiGaani ta tha aaak dlrtMl aaHnai^OoTa 
aaranl kj abation, God's iaiafa kj kiaaiamaa. 

Tha araata of tha aazt Um jaara rarivad in Laador all 
tha fottoai of hit aailiar —nhood. Tha yaar 1848 
aaanad to him lika another aad mora hopalhl jaar 1831. 
Tki iniae^laa of popalar gofaramaat aad of daipoCiam 
oaaa BMra aaaoaalaiad aaah olhv ia tha daath^numliu 
Tha atn^gia vaa ihaip« thaa Iho kilhad haaa ; n i 
mnahar of ^jmaaiw laalad and loMarad, aad fer a 
tima; hot tha tail daftal wn^ al hail it ■■■■ 1 to hi^ 
not Iwa limIiIi^, aor tha laal 
o S 

196 LAXDOR. [chap. 

plete. Against the renegadoes of liberty, such, as the Pope 
himself and Louis I^fapoleon, there were no bounds to 
Landor's indignation. By the abilities and friendliness of 
the latter he had been in personal intercourse at Gore 
House quite won, and foreseeing after the revolution of 
1848 that he would soon be called to the absolute govern- 
ment of his country, was nevertheless inclined to believe 
in his integrity of purpose. But the first shot fired against 
repviblican Eonie in the name of republican France and 
by the authority of her President " parted us," as Landor 
wrote "for ever," and the verses in which Landor by- 
and-by denounced the refusal of the right of asylum to 
Kossuth seem by their concentrated fire of scorn and in- 
dignation to anticipate the Chatiments of Victor Hugo. 
Kossuth, Manin, jMazzini, Garibaldi, Tiirr, these, and 
especially Kossuth, are the great heroes of Landor's ad- 
miration now. He wrote a small, now almost undis- 
coverahle, volume of Italics in verse, besides several 
new political Conversations; of Garibaldi with j\Lizzini ; 
of King Carlo- Alberto with the Princess Belgioioso; 
and others again of reactionary cardinals and ministers 
with each other. Even after the movement of 1848 
and 1849 had been for the time heing diverted or utterly 
suppressed, Landor continued to be much -preoccupied 
with questions of policy and government, Li 1851 he 
published a series of letters on priestcraft and ecclesi- 
astical organization, entitled Popery, British and Foreign, 
and about the same time a series of ten Letters to Car' 
dinal Wiseman. Li 1854 the approach of the Crimean 
war gave rise in the old man, now in his eightieth year, 
to reflexions on the necessity of curbing the power of 
Eussia ; on the possibility of reconstituting the kingdom 
of Poland ; and on the sagacity and probable achievements 

into Um ■hspe of Uiien^ wntftMi iwimHy by an 

-1 tnTttting in Kngfand to a ftkad al boma, and 

I to lb; Gbdatootk vilk Um «Md% •'Sir. of aU 

hare bean tevaliag^ joa alona ham xmfm 

w.^..^. u& TogallMr vith Ifc* eoBldMMO, tha pofvav of 

Ensland ia in yov haadiL Afi^ Ikoaa IhumIi^ for Ika 

f joar Montrj and of tha wodd, ba m •tooog at 

icffud U> 

UtorXandor ■ddiaaaiJ to Tmwioa a biief 

f ]iv(Nid afbantty and ooapaadkMM ioiQi^ 

...txl aavanl of tlwt writoi^ obaiaialiuiia 

-naelf in Um EHgUsh Traiit, and took oo- 

)>«r alaokaa oi tha wmI awna aato- 

ir. to atoto aaelly bii antiMstoin 

After apaakiiV of Altei iMidor 

i^ „ 

•bit of All .... T 
Hoij Mlimmrt ^^ 
■aOM Qi atviIrA 

Backed by t) 
tbtti tyiannkkio 

;. iur«ai4«dtb«BK 
.ii.h M« Um aaal 
'«ad kav* dfDt 
'«*ata to Uk- 



goit oa to 
tkan war, and to 

198 LANDOR. [chap. 

acknowledge that he for one holds and ever will hold that 
*' the removal of an evil at the least possible cost is hest." 
Some time before this, in 1853, two new volumes 
of Landor's writing had been put forth. One was 
simply a detached reprint of those of his imaginary con- 
versations in which the speakers were ancient Greeks 
and Romans : Conversations of the Greehs and Romans 
the volume was called, and its dedication to Charles 
Dickens, in which he congratulates his friend above all 
things on his labours "in breaking up and cultivating 
the unreclaimed wastes of humanity," is another example , 
of the combined warmth and heartiness of his friendships 
and the catholic justice of his appreciations. Landor's 
second volume of 1853, in appearance uniform with the 
last-named, was called by him The Last Fruit off an Old 
Tree. It was dedicated to the Marchese d'Azeglio, and 
to the title-page was prefixed that quatrain of Landor's 
upon his seventy-fifth birthday, which I have already 
quoted (p. 183). It contained eighteen new Conversations, 
most of them modern and political, besides a number of 
the prose pieces published during the past six years in 
pamphlets and newspapers. These included, besides the 
pieces of which mention has been made already, an evi- 
dence of Landor's undecaying feeling towards the memory 
of Southey, in the shape of a remonstrance addressed to 
Lord Brougliam on the public neglect both of that memory 
itself, and of the person of the poet's surviving son. Of 
himself Landor in this letter gives the monumental and 
just description : — " I claim no place in the world of 
letters ; I am alone, and will be alone, as long as I live, 
and after." The poetry which concludes the volume of 
Last Fruit is, Landor says, " what I wish the prose could 
have been, mostly panegyrical ; " it consists, that is to 

Ttu] LABT fBUIT. lt» 

in giwl put, ol *««|Mi4lM'' and oUmt piaew ad- 
in Um spbit of ftkadly diMMrioa « BOM frMttdly 
to hk commdM aai jaakw in tht emft o< WMmil 
LMior»UeuMif«dilMlMd**mMs''ia v«m oa tbo 
OTl^iMkor Om C«Bd ; leeiiM writtao noiiii riTmlrj, ttill kM 
in any iaplkA dopwcitHon, oIUm work oC(ttMlkj»lnt 
«B|)ljUkiBgBpUMtlMaMftft<idi,MH««nl7A diffannt 
buidle and ftoa • diiBBreat tklci 

Tho two dfi— tfe dtdogMS in LadFmi^ — thoM of 
LMmon di Eito, the bolovod of Taws villi Ta«o*« ooa- 
fcMor.anii of AdminJ Blaka witk hb btoUwr H— phwy,— 
iMMMagtiM inaalLtadorofOTwralaftiMModnpaiifenl, 

part twKimi annnf^ Aloago uu t w IioabatwaaLaBdor 
hiMMlf aind AidMiaMOS Ban^ ispnnMlad aatakiac dImo 
fai tht MOM of a walk ai HiiiitiiMmwiii, k Um lipait 
Mid Moii iatartikuig of that daia which hegan thiftj jmus 
hafoia with tha ftni diakgia of Johaooo and Hocna 
Tooha. Tho itiaimaiinn tomt ahaoil tntiidly oa taali- 
Bi ffl il poiaia of Fr««g>*"h Htumltrt and tha Ei^iih km* 
In it aw ii*t M| othav IhiMBi f ifnil**T BMSBOiL d^ 
and iDMtnlaa thoaa piiMinlM of apaUnw ^uoh ha 
had fnmdid kaig ago o« anikfjr and on tha atoily of tha 
aadty SMdiih wiitasL awl whiah ha had iMiiiad on aolaallT 
pnltii^ into pitt tft ^ to tha dirtmattai of hfe prinlaia. 
ma lanapwpoatfamof hJafWiAiil writiipL. Mootof 
hia loadan had haaa aooMtoaMd to iifudhia laafft in 
thaia MaltMa aa iMaa inaovaliona diataltd hv athttnij 
whiB. Lndatahovad thatha wMgiddadaolhf wUb 
hat hj pihidpK and dniad that hfe ctei^aa warn how- 
TalioaaataU. Ha know thai tha eamnt |«aaliaa of any 
ly jnFagHih "paBh* «•• pMf • aaMvof aacUnl 
andoMloaa: and to tha aoeidaat and omIob of hiaawn 

200 LANDOE. [chap. 

age liG refused to bow in cases where he found those of 
another to be preferable. He droAv up lists of those words 
which he found habitually spelt by any of the earlier 
writers, from Chaucer down, in a manner more consistent 
with derivation, with sound, or with analogy, than by the 
moderns. Thus a regard to derivation made him Avrite 
exdame, ]_)roclame, strategem, instead of exclaim, proclaim, 
stratagem ; a regard to sound, foreii^ sovran, interi\ instead 
of foreign, sovereign, inter ; to analogy, emhassador, or else 
why embassy 1 receit, or else why deceit and conceit 1 
f/randor or grandour, or else why honour, labour, and not 
honneur, labour, and so on with the rest 1 Fidelity to the 
spoken sound also made Landor banish the termination ed 
from the preterites and past participles of verbs ending 
with sibilant, or soft labial or guttural, consonants, and 
write wisld, dwpt, lookt, instead of wished, dropped, 
looked. In this last usage Landor Avas followed by the 
brothers Hare and by many of those on whom the Hares 
had influence ; including, as we all know, no less a 
master than Mr. Tennyson. Custom, reasonable or other, 
has proved too strong to yield to others of Landor's proposed 
reforms. But for the student it is not easy to find better 
reading, a more instructive array of instances, or a more 
pointed and clenching method of presenting arguments, 
than are contained in his discussions on these mechanical 
and technical matters of language. Landor hated to 
be confounded with the so-called phonetic reformers of 
spelling, as Hartley Coleridge first, and afterwards one or 
two others, had confounded him. In this matter as in 
others he regarded himself essentially as a conservative, 
and all he proposed was to select for imitation and revival 
such portions of the practice of the best writers, from the 
fourteenth to the eighteenth centuries, as seemed on 

rti.] LAST FRUrr. 101 

•anuMMttioa to be mtM eomci and mtionaL ¥nm Um 
ortfcofwiAy of woidi IIm Hmmkm ftmm oa to tlio 
votds thwnwlrw, and wo ind Ltador iavoj^dag in hU 
m<«l¥%utoo t vda«gdMtiho o a lloqtri dod n !iq>ttMM which 
Im BMiarivod to bo ddHiag owy day tlio fiNnteiaa of his 
aoUMTtoogM. ** HnUMag* wm a woid whidi ho bardj 
i«rMd to toknto; iat ''pluek,* *'aham,'* *«tni|ia" 
(■wraii^ l"m*X *'th^ «>M%* <*»0Mt« Mili^i,*' 
■'pafaay daya,** and aaay oUmt phraaaa of oomIob- 
poaaiy abag ot ooBtMBpocary tno wiitiag^ ho had ao 
lolanliott whatorar. He felt like a aeatiBel koapi^ 
goaid OTtr tho hoaoor aad iatagiHy of tho Imliih 
ha^pa^ Aad lar aaeh a poal BO aaui waa halte iMod 
ailhar by kaowladga ornflaetaoa. 80 aaMiivo aad Miaato 
alilflmfyaeqaaialaaeawithhio aKiUMr loafa^ aoaUrfaad 
with to joaloaa aad aaaAivo aa iaiftiael ia ita v«bal 
elitiai■■^ hava probably aaw o ria lad ia aay othar bmb. 
Nor waa Umm otw a tiaM whoa a ataliaal waa awte 
a a aded , Evea smb of gaoiaa aad of Jaai po|Ni]aiity» a 
Cariyla, a Diekaai, a Maoaolay, bod each ia hia way 
tho aittaoM of Ei«Uah-opMld^ aad Ei«lMh. 
atoiad thiirlmaiyfcwadfaitaiaMaaaar 
of ataitling or glUlailin aaagai^ of arttar^wt or aaqjafei 
fbiaa aad doviean TImto wwa faw wiitata, aad of thoaa 
Laador waa tho fcwawl, who aJhwad to a daariaal iig«> 
larity of kagaafa aad to a okaiioal coalman aad raitiaial 
of alyb. Laador waa ligoroBiia i^joaitiagfboM hiivoaa- 
balary all worda balaaahaa Ittd alood tho taal of tiaM. 
Ho waa p«ha|« ttM BMai oxaolof all EagMah wtltaai ia 
lit— liafltha hyi nf Ingiial ■ad gwiaatiaal fii—tiutiliiM 
Hb alyla waa ael Ibaadad oa thai of aay BMalar, hal 
iBBladad, both ia Toaabakiy aad ia iUaalaia, Iha 
of all tho bati EagHrii pvcMo wiilaii^ ftoai Sir 

202 LAXDOR. [chap. 

Thomas Browne and ]\Iilton to Horace Walpole and Lord 
Chesterfield. He was not given, except for special pur- 
poses, to the use of strong monosyllables, or of the curt 
Teutonic English which has been brought into fashion in 
our own time, but preferred rather, though not pedantically, 
the polysyllabic articulation of words derived from the 

Li all tliis, howevei', Landor was as a voice crying in 
the wilderness. It is amazing now, and it was amazing 
then, that the grand old preacher should have so few 
listeners. The English-reading public had taken him at 
his word. They left him where he was content to remain, 
alone. They gave him no place in the world of letters, 
while they excited themselves to passion over the work 
of scores of lesser men. Less attention was paid to him 
in England than in America, where about this time, 1856, 
a Selection of detached thoughts and sentences from the 
Conversations was published at Boston, with an admirable 
critical introduction by ]\Ir. Hilliard. It is incredible, 
but true, that withiri three years of the publication of the 
Last Fruit an elaborate article on English prose style, 
appearing in an English magazine to which Landor was 
himself an occasional contributor, should have actually 
contained no mention of his name at all. This neglect 
did not trouble him in the least, nor did he regard 
Avith a shadow of envy the applause bestowed on others. 
" Caring not a straw for popularity, and little more for 
fame," he simply uttered from time to time the thoughts 
that were in him in the language which he found most fit. 
From a few indeed of those who themselves stood nearest 
him in power and art, every such utterance as it appeared 
drew forth a fresh tribute of homage. In 1856 Landor pub- 
lished in a separate pamphlet (the " proceeds " destined. 


uuf oU, loA^teifiMlpwpoMof dittitj),A m4 oi Semt t 
fnm tt« ttmifi mmam agaia in ithm^ md i^^ dnnra 
fwtlf ly from a dooMia vb«ra the gmtiwt ImkI beta at 
work bafofl* hiai. The mbiaet waa Antonj and CSeopatn. 
" Wbal aa vadanatad aool bafora Ida ai^b^ yaan," writea 
Mm Browaiag aftar laadiag Umb^ "aad how good for 
all oUiaff aook to aoatMaplatak'* SUU, ia tiM laaM yaar, 
hap«taoiBa<rf Ida bmmI piagnaat tlKNi|^ o« laagoaga, 
aad aapwiially, atiaage aa it a»7 a8ea^oa tha Tfagliih 
laagaaga^ iato a dklogne ba t wae a Alfieri aad Iffrtaataain, 
pabliihed ia /hiMr'« an^iiaa "Do 70a thiak tha 
gnuid old Fagui wrota tbal piaea jnit aov t ** adu Car> 
lyl« ia a latter writtaa at tba tiM. **1lMaoaBdorit ia 
iik« tha nag of Boomui awoida oa the hahMAaof bar> 
bariaaa ! Tha vaaabdMbla old Boaaaa I " 

But alee ! than eaiM befcae lai« aawa of the old 
Konaa vhieh eoold aot bat BMke thoae who lorad aad 
lioaonad him legrat that ha had aot aaawnabad aadfar to 
thaaoUKmlot Of all Laadot'a wild eemrioM vith tha 
wtnld of fMt| the Bioit mdaaeholy aad tha aMiat aotorioM 
befcU him aow ia hia patrianhal i«a. lBl856,^7aar 
of thaliMter HBmtnom aad tha &«a» >br Oa SMy, 
ha had paid oaa of bia now iafreqaaai Tiatta to Loadoa ; 
had joiiMd a party of friaada at tha Cljfalal I^ilaoi^ aad 
baaa aa Tigmoaa aad aa wbfaiainal ia hii talk aa arar. 
From aboot tha baginning of tha aast year, 1857, 
tboa aeemed to ba aoadag o>rar him a dmi^ fer 
tha woiaiL Hia latlan baapoka both phyaieal decay 
aad maatal di i tuf b aa aa . Wane Ibaowad ; it wm ftwad 
that ba had aOowid himaalf lo ba dnifgiid hndha^ 
into a niiwiabla aad aoaqmmlrfng qjwml bataaiu 
two hMliaa al Bith. One of thaaa wm tha wtfc oT a 
clfTirraMn, ilu* o<b«fr a yooag gfad, bar boaom ftiaad aatll 

204 LAXDOR. [chap. 

the quarrel arose ; both had been very ^intimate with 
Landor during the last few years. To the younger he, 
with his royal and inveterate love of giving, had lately 
made over a small legacy in money, which had been left 
him as a token of friendship by Kenyon. In the course 
of the quarrel the elder lady, who had shortly before 
accepted help from the younger out of Landor' s gift, took 
exception to the nature of her intimacy with the giver. 
Landor on his part utterly lost control of himself Eegard- 
ing himself as the champion of innocent youth against an 
abominable combination of fraud and calumny, in the 
frenzy of his indignant imagination he remembered or 
invented aU kinds of previous malpractices agaiust the 
foe. He betook himself to his old insane weapons, and 
both in print and writing launched invectives against her in 
an ultra-Roman taste. He wrote odious letters to her hus- 
band. Legal steps being set on foot to restram him, his 
unfailing friend Forster came down to see what could be 
done. By his persuasions, joined to those of Landor's 
own lawyers, the enraged old man was with difficulty 
induced to sign an apology, coupled with an undertaking 
not to repeat his offence. But Mr. Forster had felt, at 
the time when this engagement was made, that Landor 
could hardly be trusted to remember or observe it. Age, 
illness, and indignation had rendered him for the time 
being uncontrollable and irresponsible. For the first time 
in more than twenty years he proceeded to act in defiance 
of Mr. Forster's advice in a matter of publication. Having 
recovered from the hostile party in the dispute a number 
of scraps in verse, the least considered and least valuable 
that he had thrown off durhig recent years, he entrusted 
them to an Edinburgh house to be sent to press, under the 
plea that copies of them were abroad, and woiild be made 


pubiic \'j oUirn it noi bj hJIIWilf TIm YutuOMi ai^lMrad 

t<«rij in 18M, imte IIm Ihfe I>ry W«dk /tyotel Ay 
ir. ;& laiM/or; "by the Ute W. a Ludor," the oU 
BMA hed at ini iiMieled thfti the title •hoold mn. mie 
book VM aide «p of the i ie u i rw e d aempe and epignuBe 
io qnenlioa ; with a few othan in Latin ; beaidee a reprint, 
after an "oeeBltatJon,** ai Lander pot it| **al aizty yoaiab'* 
of the Fotmtfnm tte ArtMe mtd Ptniam ; and a munbar 
of iwiiJi— itai/ piieaa a< M ie»e d bjTaaooa ■liiaii to 
hfaiilf. Unhappflj the oU man had nol been able to 
lealnin hfanaalf fhm ■*M*'y a]e(\ in deftuieeof hie afaaied 
engagMMftti one or two <4 hie wont l aap o oae afafnal hii 
enemy. The enaoiy aeama to haYe bean nothing klh to 
take advanlige of the iMdt» and a aoit fer danM«ea waa 
iaaedielely eel on foot Befem it eaae on lender had 
a etrokab wUeh kH hia ineandble fer forty-eight houa, 
and for aoMa weaka afterwaide he hung betwem life and 
death. Hia estnoidinaiy alMagth, howevir, oairiad hia 
thio««ii, and he eaiM to Umiif hollar both hi body and 
nind after hia tUneaiL The trial waa in the maenHmeoondng 
on at the Angnal awm Pinrtieally thaweoiH he no de> 
fenoe ; the aHaeks wan on ^ feee of fh«n Shallow^ and 
LandoK^a ftianda adriaed hia logo abroad, in oidw if 
poeMbleto prolielhianifiyineltheBnniiinaBBiofthe 
inenaae TWiii naa eiinng ne pannni propai^ ana 
I>ictQiea, and aaking a fennal tanafer of all bis real 
propel^ to Ui aldaal eon. Thia wa aeeeidii«ly 
doM^ and JhI hdan the trial eeae on the fetkin oU 
eel ool In lave hii natire land 




On his'Way to the Continent, Landor arrived suddenly at 
Mr. Forster's house, where Dickens and some others Avere 
at dinner. Dickens left the table to see him, expecting 
naturally to find him broken and cast down. But the old 
man's thoughts were far away ; he seemed as though no 
ugly or infuriating realities had any existence for him, 
and sat talking in his most genial vein, principally about 
Latin poetry. " I Avould not blot him out, in his tender 
gallantry, as he sat upon his bed at Forster's that night, 
for a million of wild mistakes at eighty-foiu* years of 
age;" so wrote the manly-hearted and understanding 
witness who then saw Landor for the last time. This 
was on the 12th of Jiily, 1858. The trial came on at 
Gloucester in the next month, and the jury brought in 
a verdict of lOOOZ. damages against the defendant. 

Stricken but unsubdued, his strength and his intellectual 
faculties even in some slight degree restored, Landor 
had in the meantime travelled as far as Genoa, where it 
was his intention to take up his abode. Advice well 
meant but injudicious prevailed on him to change his 
plan. He pushed on to Fiesole, and rejoined his family 
in the villa Avhich he had once loved so well, and which 


II WM jttil UuM tad Ivwty jmm ag^ mam k« ImkI 
left. At fliti 1m VBOihrtd nat d^grae of eoBteakMBt 
•■di evvii | il < M»i B from Us nluni to his old lulkui 
Koom; uod it k aMtddag to read the twws ia which 
the old mui't mbm of dignity and hj^ dnni itnigglai 
iimadhly with tho nnwninniM of hit himil ii tfcw , nd 
ho wdaoToiui to ftad in tho Aum at his 
wwwdJBgi a onnanktinB far hit hto dlaitaw : — 

If I «KtoU'd Uw TirtMw ud tka wim, 
TIm hrav* mmI liiiMiilU, a^ «dl ffiiwrt 

t <^«ld I fc iM ■■ thrt . . fciha aao^ iMif m, 
Pwpogd. UH, wwiifcil . . . tmivJivl 

tkrow tMr dirt «poa BM. BM wjlteal 
»p pakbiM flH«IUIjr ioelaaid P 

Tkajr do wA airika a hnthmt, aliiU^f ««. 

Tliia biMifcw o'ar im a ooal tmrnitj, 
v9t aw dividad vos old Mndi^ la lasda 

tfaagk* wilhaal old Madi «aa pkaMv 

Ony alifaa tiHalda ia Ilia wianty na. 
Aad oriaHoa ligiil iavaali paiiiaaRM diC 


But theae o oawli ti o m w«o not d«itiB«l ft 
Landor'a iato ImmI ttill ftMh tiiak im naccro. Tho 
■eoadal of the Bath albir aado MMM of hb old Imada itt 
FloNBoa look ooldly OA hia, and amo^ thMi tht ^iidi 
odaiatM, Loid HooMmby. Al thii Iha oU am «m 
wtmadad to tho qviek, and if tha whola cmo wwa aol ao 
daaply WMlannhnly, wa might weD mula al tka m^jartio 
doeamant ia which ha piaaaatly laUotad hit JbaU^ : — 

" Mt Loaa.-y«» I aai l aa w aw a a ft am aa Bhaw af aatami 

208 LANDOE. [chap. 

months' duration, aggravated no little by your,lordsliip's rude 
reception of me at the Cascine, in presence of my family and 
innumerable Florentines, I must remind you in the gentlest 
terms of the occurrence. 

We are both of us old men, my lord, and are verging on 
decrepitude and imbecility, else my note might be more ener- 
getic. I am not inobservant of distinctions. You by the 
favour of a minister are Marquis of Normanby, I by the grace 
of God am 

Walteb Savage Landoe. 

But worse than any sliglit inflicted by a minister were 
the crosses which Landor found that he had to endure at 
home. Time had done nothing to diminish, but rather 
everything to increase, the incompatibilities between him- 
self and those of his household. By settlement, deed of 
gift, deed of transfer, or otherwise, Landor had now made 
over all his property to his wife and children ; the bulk 
of it to his eldest son ; and except for a small sum in 
ready money which he had brought with him, he was 
absolutely dependent upon his family for the means of 
subsistence. Doubtless he was a wilful and unmanageable 
inmate in the house to which he had so long been a 
stranger. ISTone the less was it the obvious duty of those 
nearest him, and enriched at his expense, either to make 
his life, at whatever cost of compliance and forbearance, 
endurable to him under their common roof, or else to pro- 
vide him with the means of living in his own way else- 
where. It seems only too certain that they made no 
serious or patient attempt to do the former ; and the latter 
when Landor desired it they declined to do. Pathetic, 
almost tragic, Avas the portion of the old man in those 
days, a Lear who found no kindness from his own. 
Thrice he left the villa with the determination to live by 
himself in Florence ; but his wish was not indulged, and 


thrioe h« was brooiphl back to the hone which wm «o 
hoa* for him, tad when he ww deett with aeither g«w> 
rooely nor gently.' The fourth time he pveeented himeelf 
in the home of Mr. Browning with ndj n few peak 
in hit poclwl» dedenng thsl ttotfaiB^ nioiud erer indnee 
him to retain. 

Mr. Browning, en tnter%: 
rilk henag Mtii6ed hia ti 
wee indeed peet qneetion, pot himewif et 
mnnimtinn with Mr. Foeeter end with Duidvt • u^iu^u. •» 
Fim^id The hitter inelBatly undertook to eoppty the 
neede of their eUeet bother dnrii« the veflHiader dC hie 
life. ThMierfbrtheahwo— enflBfaatfcthiifti^wMrte 
WW fatwnded Ngobily fcr hie we thnu^ the friend who 
had thw eoae ferwud at hie seed. To Mr. Browaii^^ 
reepeetfnl end jodietoae giddeaee I«ador diowed him- 
•elf docile from the firet ReaM>Ted from the intliftkww, 
rml end imegiBwy, of hie life et neeole^ he luneme 
aaothftmea, end et timee etiU eeemed to thoee eboot him 
Uke the old Leador et hie beet. It ww in July. 18ft9, 
UMttheaewttwaCBWwtB fer hie hfewwoMde. The 
leiMiadw of thit Mwwr he apeal al Saw, flnt w tim 
gnaet of Mr. Story, the Amerinen eeolptor and poel, next 
in e eoltMga vwted fev mm by Mr. Browaiig mw hie owa. 
In thaamfenniof Iko aawa year Ludor lewoved to a eel 
••r e p e i l m e u ta in the Via Kmitiatiw in FlotMe% elow to 
theChaaOni^iaahdwakiplby a femer ewraal of 
3foL Browaimr^ n FngWihinMaii married to aa Ilalfea. 
Here he eoatianed to ttre dniag the tw yean thai yel 
remaiBed to hiau He ww oAaa aanentibie^ oaandoa% 
iiafweoaable, aad faP of Jwi^aiiy Tlw Bath trial aad 
ite eoaaeqaeaaw pieeeed npoa hii miad with a etaw 
of bewildetiag ii^aiy whieh at tiiaw 8tai« him almoal to 


210 LANDOK. [chap. 

madness. The deed of transfer to liis eldest son had on 
appeal been in so far practically set aside, that the damages 
awarded by the jury had after all to be paid. Land or 
was always scheming how he might clear his character by 
establishing the true facts of the case ; that is to say, by re- 
peating the self-same charges the publication of which had 
already cost him so much. He caused a "vindication" to 
be printed, and wrote pressing Mr. Forster to help him to 
get it made public. "When his instances to this effect 
were received with silence or remonstrance, he imagined 
grievances against even that proved and devoted friend, 
and suspended communications with him for a time. The 
delay which ensued in the issue of a new edition of his 
Hellenics, prepared partly before he left England and 
partly while he was still at Fiesole, exasperated him 
much as similar delays had exasperated him of old, and 
led, as of old, to the burning in a moment of irri- 
tation of a quantity of literary materials that lay by 

!N^otwithstanding all these private self-tormentings, and 
indignant lashings of the wounded lion in his retreat, he re- 
mained to his small circle of friends and visitors in Florence 
a figure the most venerable and the most impressive. Al- 
though weaker in all ways, he retained all his ancient dis- 
tinction, and many of his ancient habits. He had found a 
successor to Pomero in the shape of another dog of the same 
breed which had been given him by Mr. Story. The name 
of this new pet was Giallo, and Giallo became to Landor's 
last days all that Pomero had been before. Landor, who 
in the first two or three of these years at Florence still 
contrived to walk to a moderate extent, became known 
to the new generation of Florentines as the old man with 
the beautiful dog, il vecchio con quel hel canino. He 


bmfltmimd toQ^ agoin* hi* old hwuili aiaoiig Ute piciuiv- 
dtil«B» Mid boQi^t uot <tf hit timaiim pittuiM thatM m 

hotaafgb of aoBM old ftiiiiida md aoBM utw | — T ta tad hi* 
life Ami boiag loo nlituy. TiMdoiUhorHm. Brownii^iii 
1861, Mid hor h— >»nd*i cioimqwit dot>ortmofcgEa|^«nd, 
took awaj from lunhkboiifriaadt of ftIL HehadlMnMl 
•loo a gimi plnaom in Um loeioty of a yooag 
lady, )G« Kale Field, who haa given oe as 
poitail of tho old maa in IheeB deeliniag d^f& Alnoel 
loolhliM Bov, and paitiallT deal^ hie npettanee vaa 
•hiagid bj Iba addltioa of a flowag and oww.wliite 
beaid. TUi^ areiy one oaid, made kirn look okmo Uka an 
old lion than eirar, and he liked, aa ha had alwa js liked, to 
be NMiadad of the leaainhlenrw. He oookl itiU be nigral 
eo»pa«y whaa ha pleaeed. Ha taaf^hia yocng Ai— inan 
friend Latin, and opened out for her with delighl the atill 
abmdanl tnaaniae of hia *b»i H i Uia mmboit for 
friende and for BMaea in geniaal, aa wall aa iot 
eTeote,hadheeonie imoeitaini buthiareoaolnriaeolleclioniL 
hiiatotiei^M ha oani to eall thoB,«*of the jaar omu,** 
wwe aa vivid and ftdl of poroaa ever. It pvoteoad i^on 
haa haaian an aftel ahMt of awe to liilon to Ihia hetoie 
aofvivor of aaollMr age^iriMaa talk, dnriag the bal Biaiiliy 
of Lad FdBMilen and on the ava of Iha Aaariean war 
of fliDwarion, wonld nm on lUvge whkk hamMMbaied 
nndar the fiiil fldnialij of Fill» or m a ehild daiii« the 
Aaarkan war of Tm fr T- H t^T Garibaldi wm Um hero 
of hie old i«a aa WaiUi«ton had bean tha hmo of hia 
yoath. Ha fallowad with fiaainnali toUiiil tta pwpaaa 
ofltaUan aaandiNlian. Ha tarfilil ona d^ thai hia 
Welch ahonld ba pawned and tha piomdi givantotha 
find in aid r>r nanKddTa woondeJ^ TT« wm mon ia> 
r S 

212 LANDOK, [chap. 

dignant than ever witli liis old acquaintance^ the In-ench 
Emperor, for his treacherous dealings with the Italian 
nation. He wrote political epigrams in English and 
political odes in Latin ; an address in English to the 
Sicilians ; and in far from faultless Italian a dialogue 
between Savonarola and the Prior of St. Mark's — the 
proceeds to go, as the watch had only been prevented 
by the care of his friends from going, for the benefit of 
Garibaldi's wounded. 

In these days the books which the old man liked best 
to read were novels, and he got from the library and read 
with delight some of those of TroUope and of his old friend 
G. P. R. James, speaking and writing of the latter in 
particular with an extravagant partiality of praise. He 
would often talk of books, and of the technical matters of 
language and the literary art, with all his old mastery and 
decision. On such points he was much given to quoting 
the opinion of his dog Giallo. Giallo, he said, was the 
best of critics as well as the most delightful of companions, 
and it was not " I," but " Giallo and I," who paid visits 
or entertained views on politics and literature. Giallo 
was the subject of many verses, extemporary and other. 
" Why, Giallo," said the old man one day, " your nose is 


But he is foolish who supposes 
Dogs are ill that have hot noses." 

Here are some unpublished lines of great feeling, written 

on the same theme, which I find under date of Aug. 1, 


Giallo ! I shall not see thee dead, 
Nor raise a stone above thy head. 
For I shall go some years before, 
Where thou wilt leap at me no more, 
Nor bark, as now, to make me mind, 
Asking me, am I deaf or blind : 


K«k OfaOo. b«« I ahaU b« woa. 

Aad Ukw wilt Mralok «j taif Md bou. 

d wtoA&n duM rad 
fBOMd dbo a wwMwihto put of Ludkir't 
Idk b tiMM di]r«. His own wauamm iiMMiniiil, wkik 
ilSHiglk WM Ml, M Sue M ifvw. He wm AdlolbtrataAd 
cnsalnMnlaiT MMMlMi^ of ovudc ud gnnlU nloiii, of 
iiB|ib tiM f JM hi nm d pnMBts uid itlMlioM. H* wooU 
always see his hdj friends to Um door, tad ks^ tk«B ialo 
thriT rani^ hsra hmidod Tf hn srfin«|Miiiiiid thsw, is hn 
■oasliMos did, oa Uisir drives, he wooU slwejs teko his 
pkeo ott tiM hade aasL OMdeytheyweradosplyfaNMbod 
by his s acpt essiosi of • wish to drive up to the gsto of the 
Fiesoluinlla,siidb]rthe look of vistftdMSS whieh oeae 
ow his Bohle ifsd ftee as he set is tilMMO^ 9Mi*g ilthal 
aUaaaled hooM far the hHl time. 

His Aoierieaa friends beffpie Ismg deptiied loo^ and the 
oldaaa was left with leas ooMpaaiy thui etw, eauepi thad 
of Oiallo^ and of hie own thoBghta and awnriss Ha 
oositiBnad el iatsnrals to take pleasure in the eociety of 
Mr. RohMt, now Eail, lyttoa, aad in IkU of the eon of 
his old fcisBd AaaeiB HHe^ to whoM ha h«l bean Ml 
of kindness and of aMoalien thio«ghont his boyhood. 
LUtle by little the iM of Ufa «nk hraw in Um. Ho 
grew doaftr and daafar, ao thai allasl the virils of hia 
old friend Kirirop, now also dea^ ahnoal oaaaed to gjhra 
hia pleeanie. Ha anihwd nMia and aoce 
diaonesi^ aad disfaMUaaliBB far faod* Sfa 
and less ooaasioaa of uulwanl and prMsnl 
edoaaof thaa only far MnMirti of biiif aad haU^ 
bewildswd awabaii^ Hia laltsa of 
ahoit, aad BMM ahrapl thaa awM^ Ihamh 
they ooalain, aoBMltar how tririel ito onbjeel, ie tnsnily 

214 LANDOR. [chap. 

as vigoroiis and as stately in form as of old- From 1861 
to 1863 Mr. Bro'wning was Landor's principal correspon- 
dent. In the last year of his life he ceased to remember 
his unreasonable grievance against Mr. Forster, and wrote 
to him with all his old warmth and gratefulness of affec- 
tion, expressly confirming, among other things, the choice 
by which he had long ago designated him as his bio- 
graphei and literary executor. 

In his inward life and the customary operations of his 
mind, Landor continued almost to the last to retain an 
astonishing and unquenchable vigour. He was continually 
taking ujd pen and paper in the old sudden way to put 
down fragments that he had been composing whether in 
verse or prose, in English or in Latin. " I am sometimes 
at a loss for an English word," he said to a friend about 
this time, "never for a Latin." Two volumes of his 
writing, chiefly in verse, appeared after his return to Italy. 
The first of these, long delayed in the press, was a second 
and enlarged edition of the Hellenics of 1847. Of the 
idyls contained in the earlier edition, the majority here 
appear again, some having been completely re-written, 
that is to say re-translated from the original Latin, in the 
interval. One or two pieces which appeared in the old 
volume are omitted, and among those introduced for the 
first time are several Greek scenes and idyls, including 
metrical versions of two of his former prose dialogues, 
Achilles and Helena, and Peleus and Thetis, and one or 
two jjieces not belonging to the Greek cycle at aU. The 
old dedication to Pio !N"ono is replaced by one to Sir 
\Yilliam l!^apier, and this is folloAved by a graceful invo- 
cation to the Muses to " come back home " — home, that 
is, from less congenial haunts to the scenes and the 
memories of Hellas. On the Avhole, this edition of the 


lleiirHtcs lA ju uiuT in fom nor in muBtonce an ifli* 

provement of that in 1847. II wm four ymn bter UmiI 
than Mpgmnd IsaAo^ttrnxi, and hui, TolaaM^ Um Hmroie 
tdifk. In Um intennJ be luid eontnbotfMl two or thne 
pio« dklogMi to the AOmmmm, lbs Hmvio Jdffis u n 
TofaoM cnttralj <rf T«n«^ abovt fMir pnii Eaf^kband one 
Mit Tyb^Iti Bwidtt n Branbw of pftf'twl and oooMioonl 

Landot^ nmal rain betwwn ii[^fraiBitMi tr^U^g and 
londar panfty, tliera an in thia Tolnna aona hatf*-iliiwii 
nswdialognaaor dwMtfe ae«paa in vma, of whidi T h m t ma 
mtd Hiffolifia, and Iha Triml of JEmkflm*^ an aaMog 
Landoc^ irary bait woik in this kind. Hera^ liroin Um 
dialogaa of tba Awamnlaw Qwan and b« Athmian van- 
qniiher, ia an ixaaipla of tlia poiliy iHddi tlie old hmui 
waa atill eapabb <^ wrttii^ at aig|it]r-^^ :-— 
n«MM. M7 eoaakiy riMO be lUaa, and Ikaro iby alala 

Ifffiyelyta. AailaokildP ghraaaaqfMra, 
liillnmaa ■■■liw lull tij ililiim 
Tfctffaiwlw T ■fcaW mitt wa ^ala. 
BrigirtMl oTriracai lalo wiMaa daar daylli 

▲ad taagiHi mm mAf to divU* Uw wwm 
Wkli ansa aadi 4^ aon alR«t, and Mon to ( 
Aad niaitala tW MWr awaa, aor iaad 
Bia iManar vaiaa er Mi qpHAad «fa«. 

Lei oa calj add ftom Iha iTarwie Mfif a fcw linaa of ite 
Iviaf imImi^ t ii md witli Landor'a old in oo iBam bla f4 ? 
of laMpanda and «*%»»••«» aiiirnwiiiania^ 

Ha«ha iavilUa !«• paaw af Mi aiaitiift ji» aMgr aH 
dova wd audta ao anaaaa; Iw aiaal W nafapalar, ha 
tritd tobaauMii at h a mi wi; kaaataranlanM vilk a< 
potary, bat vdkid alaaa on tlM fv ( 

216 LANDOK. [ch. viii. 

The Heroic Idyls appeared in the autumn of 1863, Avith 
a dedication to Mr. Edward Twisleton, to whom Landor 
had a few months before entrusted the manuscript of the 
volume to be brought home. The society of this accom- 
plished scholar and amiable gentleman was almost the last 
in which Landor was able to take pleasure. From the 
beginning of 1864 his infirmities of aU kinds increased 
upon him. Even after the publication of the Heroic Idyls, 
he had sent home a new batch of five short dialogues in 
prose and verse. But the end was now fast approaching. 
In the mid-spring of his eighty-ninth year, 1864, he was 
still able to take a momentary pleasure and interest in the 
visit of the young English poet, Mr, Swinburne, already 
the most ardent of his admirers, and soon to become 
the most melodious of his panegyrists, who had made a 
pilgrimage to Florence on purpose to see the old man's 
face before he died. Except for such transitory awaken- 
ings, Landor had sunk by the summer of 1864 into 
almost complete unconsciousness of external things. He 
could still call his faculties about him for a few minutes, 
to write fragments of verse, or short notes to Mr. Brown- 
ing or Mr. Forster, but these notes are often incoherent 
and interrupted. During these last months his two 
youngest sons came down from the villa, and tended with 
kindness the closing hours of their father. About the 
middle of September the throat trouble from which he 
had long suffered brought on a difficulty in swallowing. 
He refused to take nourishment, and sank, after three 
days' abstinence, in a fit of coughing, on the 17th 
September, 1864. 

And so the indomitable spirit was spent at last, and 
the old lion was at rest. 


** I uwrnm did m aingk win thing in the vhob eoow 
of Bj Mdilflaeib nlthMiKh I htT* iNsttMi iMny vhidi 
h«v« bMn thought tmA," nfleeli Lndar, in one of thn 
•cimwled and fugitiTe iwaftniinni of hit kit ycnia. 
Liadoi't poww ky in trath noi in doings hoi in thinking 
■ndi^jing. Hk itmngth wnt not in tht niinaganint of 
lii% b«t in the acetite end critieal cnwwtinne of the 
nund. Of ell warn who ever lived, none ftnniaheB e 
Moie eoapbto type of whet Ux. Metthew AmoU, in 
ipttlriiig of Dentflg f ll* **the botn eitist, the born eoli* 
tanr;** the sen to be jndfBd not fay hk note bit bgr hk 
ttttMHMML Orif weewtejndgethawwuwnctfaeiipiiik 
by their eete eko^ by their ontweid ee well ee by their 
inwud menifiitetiiini^ then the teet whieh we epfiliy ainet 
bethe laetMiofineeiaHfantof inlMlkik Itknotin 

km* of elL Ikihiil fay hk vokenk tini|OTi«t 
and hk falindiiv laifinilkft into eelUrfon with kel% 
he edhted ihipniMh omo end egrin. Bnt if we 
•ffij to hk ehonelw end eveer the MiMnie net 
of reealk» bnt ef Jntition, we dndl etknowkdge in 
Leador e UMidel «■ the herak aflak ef umj noble 
end menly viitMik He hnl e hioit ktnikly kind 

218 LANDOE. [chap. 

and tender. His generosity was royal, delicate, never 
hesitating. In his pride there was no moroseness, in his 
independence not a shadow of jealousy. From spite, 
meanness, or uncharitableness he was utterly exempt. 
He was loyal and devoted in friendship, and what is 
rare, at least as prone to idealize the virtues of his friends 
as the vices of his enemies. Quick as was his resentment 
of a slight, his fiercest indignations were never those which 
he conceived on personal grounds, but those with which 
he pursued an injustice or an act of cruelty, nor is there 
wanting an element of nobleness and chivalry in even 
the wildest of his breaches with social custom. He 
was no less a worshipper of true greatness than he was 
a despiser of false. He hated nothing but tyranny and 
fraud, and for those his hatred was implacable. His 
bearing under the consequences of his own impracticability 
was of an admirable courage and equanimity. True, he 
did not learn by experience ; but then neither did he 
repine at misfortune. Another man conscious of his 
intentions, and reaping the reward he reaped, would 
have never ceased to complain. Landor wore a brave 
face always, and after a catastrophe counted up, not his 
losses, but his consolations, his " felicities," reckoning 
among them even that sure symptom of a wholesome 
nature, the constant pleasantness of his nightly dreams. 
There is a boyishness about his outbreaks from first to 
last. At the worst, he is like a kind of gigantic and 
Olympian schoolboy ; a nature passionate, unteachable, 
but withal noble, courageous, loving-hearted, bountiful, 
wholesome and sterling to the heart's core. 

But it is the work and not the life of a man like 
Landor which in reality most concerns us. In his work, 
then, as it seems to me, Landor is a great and central 


uttit m hu moihar toogoa^ awl » gnat oMUTe niMtcr at 
hiiloneMBtimMilaadortUluuDaabeMi. HaitattlM 
■UBS ttBM • giwl eritie— I nw Um word in iU natniml 
•aMt^tb* MBn iaidttdi iiiitiiiiH^ h ilitlii^ii'MJuil &«ai 
CTMtfaa ■ gmi qjtfB of Mfa ; » ■■■lily, tf tnmdtmtXif 
mptkiana, eritk of litontnra ; a tlriking, if impalriro aad 
impetoooi^ oritao of hirtaij and tiiiMiiiiiMil 

THa OMM of Ua aaaat popdarity an aal iHMwiH 
to diaearo. Hia thnnghta vcaa aot of a mton eapedaUy 
to alir kia owb or any one ttma. He wao indaad tlta 
am of hia age in hia paaainn for Uboij, and in hia apMt 
of h M n anitj f and tendanieaa for the dnmb creation ; and 
hia i«<ghiaHf iaatiBek and ii^natiif loa^pi«i in tha 
diraalioB of andaal HaDaa wm atend hj tha 
Eovopaan onllnia of Ui timai Bnt ftr tha laak ha 
apaH bom tha paaifaM or tha ta^paalaof thohomv I 
the haroio Ignma ol tha paal and tha pannnai 
•xpariMoaa of life. Ha **walkad aloi^ tha iv 
«pbnd% aadilatfa« and wwharii^;* and to tha far 
nplanda thoaa vho vonld walk with him anat 
I to toonnt Evan than, thcta ara 
aiiaing btm thai wani of iiwMidwation 
and ajBpathy in Landor fcr hii laadoa of wUeh 
I hstn apokan. Ha aoMBlfaMa pnadaa na §m want 
of «splaaatioM»andollanirt%naanawilh fadnirivv dfe- 
qairi t k na. Thaai^ howavar. ara the fanp a d betfana of a 
gienl MatoiV aad tha w^r to aw i ntanwt thaai ia byino- 
vidinf tha aIndHi with help whan help it wanted; by 
laledion abora all, and in tha next plan Vjr oeeaakMl oon- 
naat or inlrodiatfen. A aalactfcai or goMi Umiij af 
Landoi^ ahoitordMnatk diakgwi^ afilid wMhandi halpa 
for tha raader n I aig g e at , wwdd be, aa waa aaid kiaf 
ago by JnUna Han^ '*aM of tha noal bmrtifol booha in tha 

220 LANDOR. [chap. 

language, that is to say in the world." From the longer, 
the discursive dialogues, perhaps the only selection pos- 
sible for popular use Avould be one on the principle adopted 
by Mr. HUliard — a selection that is, of detached sentences 
and sayings. These form a kind of literature in which 
England since the seventeenth century has not been 
rich ; and from the conversations and other prose writings 
of Landor there is to be gathered such an anthology of 
them as the literature of France itself could hardly sur- 
pass. If indeed there is any English writer who can be 
compared to Pascal for power and compression, for incisive 
strength and imaginative breadth together, in general re- 
flections, and for the combination of conciseness with 
splendour in their utterance, it is certainly Landor. Space 
has failed me to illustrate or do more than name this 
province of his genius. The true Landorian, no doubt, 
will prefer to dig these jewels for himself from their sur- 
roundings — surroundings sometimes attractive and some- 
times the reverse ; but true Landorians may at present 
be counted on the fingers, and I speak of what has to 
be done in order to extend to wider circles the know- 
ledge of so illustrious a master. 

In calling him a great artist in English letters, I 
refer rather to his prose than to his verse. He was 
equally at home, as I began by saying, in both forms, 
but it is in prose only that he is at his best. 
He had himself no illusions upon this point, and consis- 
tently declared, at least after he had applied himself to 
the Imaginary Conversations, that poetry was his amuse- 
ment, prose his proper study and business. Again : " the 
only thing which makes me imagine that I cannot be a 
very bad poet, is that I never supposed myself to be a 
very good one." That which essentially distinguishes 


poelffy lioa |»roM k Um pranaMof two iMtpuafak «fe- 
■MiAiinjvil iM w y o iti aa, ■■otfo n , md ttw M iia il wgak- 
tioMaadQiNiinlofMMlioQ. In the posCvy of Luidor. tb« 
ilHMal of eoBtvol ii apl to be in azoMi ; hk Teem mo 
«pltobeMikletotlMpoialortnMM«. AMmmMmid 
oitkal pi8lBNDfl^ iMiMd, Im pidbntdtlM foeliy of to- 
brisly «ad lurtiwut to tho poetry of foh—wci aadoT 
MthiMiowi "Whot M tiMio lovely la poctiy oakos 
tiMM be modmaUfom uA eoapofnol" WeD tad good; 
but obMrring Miwieietiow ■»! eompamn, it iiitUl pnMwbU 
to stiiks *»vt to Bttiotein the tme poetieel pitek end 
poetkid ling. Landor etakM thai eOon, bnl aow, ae il 
•BOM lo BM^ lintriM thflM long. Thmdan kk <|«ile 
iboit pkeei, wbiithw gey or gmnre^ pkeee tbot expnae e 
ibaey or an «BM4k» wlA aaatoav aid praekka ap> 
proaaklBg the aplgnflUMtk, aad wMiMwakal oadaMaa <^ 
•xtieaaa aimpUdty, aie on the whok hk beat. Hk Ugittar 
antobkfnphkal venae of aU kiiMK and iMladiiig thoaa 
aiiHaaatgiialM ka^jth in blank vwaa or a%|*«yflikle 
ikynea, eootaia mock, aa the leeder will have paroeived 
by avk niri«iei aa wo have beea abk to giT% that k 
Jnak^d^giaa digriirf, iiif wlinu aad gmeaiy. In 
kk loAkriigktB Leader k >^^t— y* aad dka p poiath^ 
bjtnaik la k%kipitehed lyneal wiitii^ he win atari 

end kU witkia a inr liftBe iaio a pnai 

da Miilwiii botk 

of tho^kt aad eeaad. la ki^ 

lakad Mnativo er 

dnunetic writing ke k eooMtiaMe mt 

are wirtaiiiii; bat 

wkea, ia vene^ Leader beeoMMa ivli 

iaad^kek afiako 

to tiocoBii) aioaotonnee. 

222 LANDOR. [chap. 

But if Landor is a poet, so far as concerus the form of 
his verse, only of the second order, he is unquestionably a 
prose writer of the very first. " Good prose," he says, 
" to say nothing of the original thoughts it conveys, may 
be infinitely varied in modulation. It is only an exten- 
sion of metres, an amplification of harmonies, of which 
even the best and most varied poetry admits but few." 
Landor had too rigid and mechanical a conception of the 
laws of verse ; in the extended metres and amplified har- 
monies of prose he was an extraordinary and a noble 
master. There was not the simplest thing but received 
in his manner of saying it a charm of sound as well as a 
natural and grave distinction of air ; there was not the 
most stupendous in the saying of which he ever allowed 
himself to lose moderation or control. His passion never 
hurries him, in prose, into the regular beats or equi-distant 
accents of verse ; he accumulates clause upon clause of 
towering eloquence, bnt in the last clause never fails to 
plant his period composedly and gracefully on its feet. 
His perfect instinct for the rhythms and harmonies of 
prose reveals itself as fully in three lines as in a hundred. 
It is only a great master of prose who could have written 
this : — 

A bell warbles the more mellifluously in the air when the 
sound of the stroke is over, and when another swims out from 
underneath it, and pants upon the element that gave it birth. 

Or this : 

There are no fields of amaranth on this side of the grave : 
there are no voices, O Khodope, that are not soon mute, how- 
ever tuneful : there is no name, with whatever emphasis of 
passionate love repeated, of which the echo is not faint at 

u.] C0XCLU8I0X. S0 

UqI hamony And ihytlun an only Um Mpvickl 
baralkiofAproMitjle. 8tjl« itaeli; in th« full 
of Ibovoid, d«p«B(k npon •ooMUuBg datpar and 
inwaid. Stjia maaiM tba inatiBetiTa nila, Um innata priii- 
dpla of aalaetioa and ettttrol, by which an artirt shapea 
and v^gvlalaa araiy aniwarimi of hii mind. I^ador 
waa in EngUdi pvoaa an aitiil oooipaiabla with the 
hjghait in thair laqiaeUTa apherea ; with MUton in 
Em^iih Tonab or with Handel in ararie. Hawaaaafiv 
aa poMiUa ftom aaeking after orneoauBeBding any of tha 
qnaUtiaa gnanlly danoUd by fine writing. 80 fitf aa he 
aoqglbl allar or larwiimMtdad anythinib ii waa tha atody 
of ahapKrity, paminwy, and tha aam ai t aeevMy in 
apaanh. ** I hat» fidaa wordi, and aaak with cara^ difi- 
ooHy, and a o w >a<aaii ^ thoaa that Ai the thiiv." II 
Lamlor ia at tioMa a BMguQoqiMBt and tv«« a ponpona 
wrilaf^ tha raao« ia that hit biga worda bdit the 
hugMMaa of hia thooriita and intagai^ and pon^ ia tha 
natanal ax|naaiion of hiaganiiMi The iaatiael of dignity, 
onabined with the atody of aapjidty and diiaetaaia ; 
Batumi Bigaaly, aad tha ahaoMa of aittldal onaaaat ; 
thaaa aia the inl dhanalariotifla of LaBdoi^a proaa. The 
Bast aia tha nnapliliiai iiiil MBtaal iwilipMriaBBi of iia 
aipamla elaB aaa aad periods Hia aMtaBoia a«a apl to 
alBBd akae like hia idea% aad to eoMial either of aii^ 
Blai M, aaah giviag a«i«Biata aiiwawinii to m aia^ 
thoB^ or of caraAdly haimoiiiaad mad a4JBalad giOBpa 
of olaaaaa giving aipiMaiuB lo a gmip of aloaa^ ooft> 
Bactad aad lrtHiili|wiliBl thot^jMa. TW baal AalitoB 
type of a LaBdoiiaB aaalMMa b tkil whiah wo qaolad 
aooM pagea baek on Loid ByroB : ** I had aToidad hbm ; 
IImmI alightad hiai ha kBawitihadidBoltovBMi ha 
oobU BOt" Ko aoi^BBetioBa, bo tiiBrilkM : aaeh alat». 

224 LANDOB. [ch. ix. 

meut made by itself, and theiv connexion left to be dis- 
cerned by the reader. If we take the most sustained 
examples of Landor's eloquence, we shall find in them 
80 many amplified and enriched examples of the same 
method. These qualities render his prose an unrivalled 
vehicle for the expression of the more stable, permanent, 
massive order of ideas and images. But for expressing 
ideas of sequence, whether the sequence of propositions in 
an argument, or the sequence of incidents in a narra- 
tive, Landor's style is less adapted. There is a natural 
analogy between various manners of writing and the 
other arts ; and the ordinary criticism on Landor, that 
he seems to write in marble, is true enough. Solidity, 
beauty and subtlety of articulation, mass with grace, 
and strength with delicacy, these are the qualities which 
he obtains to perfection, but he obtains them at the 
price of a certain immobility. He was probably right in 
believing that he had imparted to his work yet another of 
the qualities of marble — its imperishableness. 



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