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Black MELANCHOLY sits, and round her throws
A death-like silence, and a dread repose;
Her gloomy presence saddens all the scene,
Shades every flower, and darkens every green,
Deepens the murmur of the falling floods,

And breathes a browner horror on the woods.

The figurative expressions, throws, and breathes, and browner horror, are, I verily believe, some of the strongest and boldest in the English language. The IMAGE of the Goddess MELANCHOLY sitting over the convent, and, as it were, expanding her dreadful wings over its whole circuit, and diffusing her gloom all around it, is truly sublime, and strongly conceived.

Eloisa proceeds to give an account of the opposite sentiments, that divide and disturb her soul; these are hinted in the Letters also.

Ah, wretch! believ'd the spouse of God in vain,*
Confess'd within the slave of love and man!

I ought to grieve, but cannot what I ought;
I mourn the lover, not lament the fault.

* V. 177.

This,

This, however, is improved greatly on the original. “Castam me prædicant, qui non deprehenderunt hypocritam.' Quomodo etiam

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pænitentia peccatorum dicitur, quantacunque sit corporis afflictio, si mens adhuc ipsam peccandi retinet voluntatem, & pristinis æstuat desideriis ?" She then fondly calls on Abelard for assistance:

O come! O teach me nature to subdue,

Renounce my love, my life, myself, and—you!
Fill my fond heart with God alone; for he
Alone can rival, can succeed to thee!

Fired with this idea of religion, she takes occasion to dwell on the happiness of a BLAMELESS vestal, one who has no such sin on her conscience, as she has, to bemoan. The life of such an one is described at full length by such sorts of pleasure as none but a spotless nun can partake of; the climax of her happiness is finely conducted:

* Epist. p. 68.

+ Ibid. 66.

‡ V. 203.

For

For her th' unfading rose of Eden blooms,
And wings of Seraphs shed divine perfumes;
For her the SPOUSE prepares the bridal ring,*
For her white virgins hymeneals sing;
To sounds of heavenly harps she dies away,
And melts in visions of eternal day!

What a judicious and poetical use hath POPE here made of the opinions of the mystics and quietists! how would Feneion have been delighted with these lines! True poetry, after all, cannot well subsist, at least is never so striking, without a tincture of enthusiasm. The sudden

transition has a fine effect:

Far other dreams my erring soul employ,t
Far other raptures of unholy joy.

Which raptures are painted with much sensibi

lity, and in very animating colours.

"Nec

etiam dormienti suis illusionibus parcunt."+

Again,

O curst dear horrors of all-conscious night;§
How glowing guilt exalts the keen delight!

* Ver. 217.

+ V. 225.

This

† V. 223.

V. 229.

This is very forcibly expressed. She proceeds to recount a dream, in which I was always heavily disappointed, because the imagined distress is such as might attend the dreams of any person whatever. *

-Methinks we wand'ring got

Thro' dreary wastes, and weep each other's woe,
Where, round some mould'ring tow'r pale ivy creeps,
And low-brow'd rocks hang nodding o'er the deeps;
Sudden you mount, you beckon from the skies,
Clouds interpose, &c.

These are, indisputably, picturesque lines; but what we want is a VISION of some such appropriated and peculiar distress, as could be incident to none but Eloisa; and which should be drawn from, and have reference to, her single story. What distinguishes Homer and Shakespeare from all other poets, is, that they do not give their readers GENERAL ideas; every image is the particular and unalienable property of the person who uses it; it is suited to no other; it is made for him or her alone. Even Virgil himself is not free from this fault, but is frequently ge

neral

*It is partly from Dido's dream.

† V. 241.

neral and indiscriminating, where Homer is mi

nutely circumstantial.

situation with her own:

She next compares his

For thee the fates, severely kind, ordain*
A cool suspense from pleasure and from pain;
Thy life a long dead calm of fixt repose;

No pulse that riots, and no blood that glows.f

Here Eloisa glances with great modesty and delicacy, at the irreparable misfortune of her mutilated lover, which she always mentions with regret.

A hint in the Letters has been beautifully heightened, and elevated into exquisite poetry, in the next paragraph. Eloisa says only, "Inter ipsa missarum solemnia, ubi purior esse debeat oratio, obscœna earum voluptatum phantasmata ita sibi penitus miserrimam captivant animam, ut turpitudinibus illis, magis quam orationi, vacem.-Nec solum quæ egimus, sed loca pariter & tempora,"

* V. 249.

The four similies that follow, drawn from religion, are admirable.

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