1825.] 
“by a stoie discharged from an hacgue- 
bouse,”’ which, “it so fell out by the suffer- 
ance of God, struck him across the loins, 
and completely fractured his spine.’’ But 
the value of this work does not consist in 
the historical facts which it details. It is 
as a picture of manners and institutions that 
it is principally to be esteemed :—as one of 
those faithful transcripts of the olden time, 
which enables us to roll back the tide of 
years and centuries, and become familiar 
with ancestral ages—with the social habits, 
the domestic accommodations, and the 
modifications of the kindred and relative feel- 
ings of our forefather’s ; without some ac- 
quaintance with which, our knowledge of the 
genuine characteristics of our species must, 
necessarily, be very defective, and our dis- 
crimination very imperfect, between what 
belongs to the nature of man, and what is 
superinduced by the localities of time and 
place, and the arbitrary influences of cus- 
tom and education. In turning to the 
original sources of information, relative to 
ages comparatively remote, nothing strikes 
us more forcibly than the contrasts they, 
frequently, present of gorgeous splendour 
and economic simplicity, of loftiness of 
manners and sentiment with what we, now, 
should call the meniai humility of function. 
The high-aspiring son of the Lord Bayard 
is given, as a page, to a feudal prince, and 
transferred from vassal to superior, and 
from the superior, again, to another feuda- 
tory, and commences his career as a part of 
the domestic suite, almost of the property, of 
these respective masters. And, if we smile 
to read, that when this lion-hearted boy, in 
his proud array, after having evinced. his 
knight-like mastery in horsemanship, to the 
wonder and admiration of the assembly of 
his illustrious kindred, is taking leave, with- 
out dismounting, of his noble mother, “then 
the good lady took out of her sleeve a little 
purse, containing only six crowns in gold, 
and one in small money, and gave to her 
son,” &c., we may recollect, perhaps, that 
the original letters of another noble dame, 
the Lady Elizabeth Grey, afterwards the 
Queen of Edward IV., written much about 
the same time, exhibit to us the high-born 
damsel, performing, cheerfully, in her bloom 
of youth, the humble duty of assisting the 
dairy maid, in milking cows and feeding 
‘pigs and poultry. 
The Death of Absalom, a Seatonian Prize 
Poem. + By the Rev. H. J. BERESFORD, of 
Clare Hall, Cambridge; Author of “* Maho- 
met,” a Chancellor's Prize Poem.—We have 
given our opinion pretty freely, in another 
place (M.M. vol. 59. p. 63), how. little 
that approximates to real poetry is to be 
expected from these College exercises. We 
understand, too well, the influence of corpo- 
‘rate feeling, to expect a prompt conéurrence 
in this opinion from the members of our 
universities ; and yet, when a distinguished 
Oxonian pleaded, as a conspicuous excep- 
tion, an instance, which it would be invi- 
- Domestic and Foreign. 355 
dious to name, he found himself, when 
induced to re-peruse the successful effusion 
which had covered its author with colle- 
giate honours, obliged to acknowledge the 
difference between a local and a general 
feeling ; and declined the vindication, for 
which we proffered him the freedom of 
our columns. We suspect that the Can- 
tab would follow the example, if, beyond 
the applauding echoes of his college, and 
disenchanted of the spell of esprit du corps, 
he should read again the Seatonian 
“* Absalom.”’ He would discover then the 
difference between the stimuli of scho- 
lastic emulation and the inspirations of the 
muse—between the mechanism of scholastic 
rhyme, and the euphonous flow of poetic 
versification. He would cease, we think, 
to imagine that such lines as the following 
were the rhythmical breathings of genuine 
poesy :— 
** What thou hast done 
In secret, shail be wrought before the sun: 
Yea, wrought by one whose nearness to thy stock 
Shall barb the shaft, and aggravate the mock.” 
* * * * * * 
** But who is he, this brave and beauteous one, 
Whose mien and vesture speak a monareh’s son ?” 
* * * * * * 
«« That nameless symmetry, which is the link 
Of loveliness in ail we see and think,* 
Wedding the parts of beauty into one 
Harmonious whole, with faultless unison,— 
Those several rave-met graces ;—who is he 
In whom they blend and beam so peerlessly !’7 
* * * * * * 
** And Absalom is there, lord of the day ; 
He bad them to the shearing; here are they,— 
Here, in the recklessness of past’ral glee; 
And Amon—of the glad, the gladdest he.” 
Pronominal rhymes are in high fayour with 
Mr. Beresford. But the following line 
presents a dilemma, into which nothing but 
the mechanism of counting the fingers, in- 
stead of consulting the ear, for the structure 
of the verse, could, we should imagine, 
betray a learned writer. Méetrically read, 
«“*« The white-wash’d flock come bleating from the 
brook” — 
would render the epithet more applicable to 
a cottage-wall than a flock of sheep ; while, 
grammatically read, 
“The white-wash'd flock come bleating from the 
brook,” 
is no longer, to the ear, a verse ; or, at best, 
no verse respondent to the theme. 
But, while we maintain that verses like 
these evince an absence of that genuine 
poetic inspiration (which never takes full 
possession of the imagination and the feel- 
ings without attuning also the ear,) we do 
not mean to assert that we meet with 
nothing better. On the contrary, there are 
passages 
* © All we think”—o/: i-e. all we can imagine. 
*'Tis wanting what should follow: of should follow ; 
But that’s tom off, because the rhyme was done.” 
Vid Congreve's “ Mourning Bride,” and 
Fielding’s * Tom Thumb,” 
2-2-2 
