E. FitzGerald.
Carlyle’s Niece writes me that he is ‘fairly well.’
Ecce iterum! That mention of Crabbe reminds me of meeting two American Gentlemen at an Inn in Lichfield, some thirty years ago. One of them was unwell, or feeble, and the other tended him very tenderly: and both were very gentlemanly and well-read. They had come to see the English Cathedrals, and spoke together (it was in the common Room) of Places and Names I knew very well. So that I took the Liberty of telling them something of some matters
they were speaking of. Among others, this very Crabbe: and I told them, if ever they came Suffolk way, I would introduce them to the Poet’s son. I suppose I gave them my Address: but I had to go away next morning before they were down: and never heard of them again.
I sometimes wonder if this eternal Crabbe is relished in America (I am not looking to my Edition, which would be a hopeless loss anywhere): he certainly is little read in his own Country. And I fancy America likes more abstract matter than Crabbe’s homespun. Excuse Ætat. 68.
Yes, ‘Gillies arise! etc.’ But I remember one who used to say he never got farther with another of the Daddy’s Sonnets than—
Clarkson! It was an obstinate hill to climb, etc.
English Sonnets, like English Terza Rima, want, I think, the double rhyme.
To S. Laurence.
Woodbridge. Jan. 15/77.