[16 Dec. 1873.]
. . . What do you think I am reading? Voltaire’s ‘Pucelle’: the Epic he was fitted for. It is poor in Invention, I think: but wonderful for easy Wit, and the Verse much more agreeable to me than the regularly rhymed Alexandrines. I think Byron was indebted to it in his Vision of Judgment, and Juan: his best works. There are fine things too: as when Grisbourdon suddenly slain tells his Story to the Devils in Hell where he unexpectedly makes his Appearance,
Et tout l’Enfer en rit d’assez bon cœur.
This is nearer the Sublime, I fancy, than anything in the Henriade. And one Canto ends:
J’ai dans mon temps possédé des maîtresses,
Et j’aime encore à retrouver mon cœur—
is very pretty in the old Sinner. . . .
I am engaged in preparing to depart from these dear Rooms where I have been thirteen years, and don’t know yet where I am going. [169]
To John Allen.
Grange Farm: Woodbridge
Febr: 21/74.
My dear Allen,