(c) Epigrams. The title-page of the Epigr. Sacra of 1670 marks out for us their main dates; that is to say, as it designates him 'Collegii Petrensis Socius,' which he was not until 1637, the only portion that belongs to that period must be the additions made in the 1670 edition (see vol. ii. pp. 3-4). Dr. Macdonald (in 'Antiphon') observes: 'His Divine Epigrams are not the most beautiful, but they are to me the most valuable, of his verses, inasmuch as they make us feel afresh the truth which he sets forth anew. In them some of the facts of our Lord's life and teaching look out upon us as from clear windows of the Past. As epigrams, too, they are excellent—pointed as a lance' (p. 240). He limits himself to the 'English' Epigrams, and quotes after above, Nos. LIV. (2) and XI.; and continues with No. XIV., and next LIV. (1); on which he says: 'I value the following as a lovely parable. Mary is not contented; to see the place is little comfort. The church itself, with all its memories of the Lord, the Gospel-story, and all theory about Him, is but His tomb until we find Himself;' and he closes with one which he thinks is 'perhaps his best,' viz. No. I.[34] We too may give it:
'Two went up into the Temple to pray.
Two went to pray! O, rather say,
One went to brag, th' other to pray.
One stands up close, and treads on high,
Where th' other dares not send his eye.
One neerer to God's altar trod;
The other to the altar's God.' (vol. ii. p. 35.)
The admiring critic on this proceeds: 'This appears to me perfect. Here is the true relation between the forms and the end of religion. The priesthood, the altar and all its ceremonies, must vanish from between the sinner and his God. When the priest forgets his mediation of a servant, his duty of a door-keeper to the temple of truth, and takes upon him the office of an intercessor, he stands between man and God, and is a satan, an adversary. Artistically considered, the poem could hardly be improved' (p. 241). 'Artistically,' nevertheless, it is a wonder Dr. Macdonald did not detect Turnbull's mis-reading of 'lend' for 'send' (l. 4). Bellew in his Poet's Corner reads 'bend,' which is equally poor for 'tendit.' There follows No. XLII., 'containing a similar lesson;' and finally No. XLV. p. 196, whereof he says: 'The following is a world-wide intercession for them that know not what they do. Of those that reject the truth, who can be said ever to have truly seen it? A man must be good to see truth. It is a thought suggested by our Lord's words, not an irreverent opposition to the truth of them' (p. 242).
Now that, besides the (relatively) few Epigrams which were translated by Crashaw himself, the whole are translated (for the first time), and now too that, exclusive of longer Latin poems, a goodly addition has been made by us to them, the reader will find it rewarding to turn and return on this remarkable section of Crashaw's poetry. Conceits there are, grotesque as gargoyles of a cathedral, oddities of symbolism, even passing into unconscious playing with holy words and things never to be played with; but each has a jewel of a distinct thought or sentiment, and often the wording is felicitous, albeit, as in all his Latin verse, not invariably without technical faults of quantity and even syntax. I had marked very many for specific criticism; but I must refrain. Our translation is perhaps a better commentary. To my co-workers and myself it has been a labour of love. I must close our notice of Crashaw as an Epigrammatist with some parallels from 'The Epigrammatists' of the Rev. Henry Philip Dodd, M.A. (1870). Under No. CXVII., 'On Pontius Pilate washing his hands,' he has this: 'In Elsum's Epigrams on Paintings, 1700, is one on a picture by Andrea Sacchi of Pilate washing his hands, translated from Michael Silos, De Romana Pictura et Sculptura' (Ep. 17):
'O cursèd Pilate, villain dyed in grain,
A little water cannot purge thy stain;
No, Tanaïs can't do't, nor yet the main.
Dost thou condemn a Deity to death,
Him whose mere love gave and preserv'd thy breath?'
Similarly, under No. LI. 'On the Blessed Virgin's Bashfulness,' he has this: 'Some lines "To the Blessed Virgin at her Purification," by the old epigrammatist Bancroft, are almost as beautiful in sentiment as this exquisite piece (Book ii. 86):
Why, favourite of Heaven, most fair,
Dost thou bring fowls for sacrifice?
Will not the armful thou dost bear,
That lovely Lamb of thine, suffice?'
Of the exceptionally celebrated, not exceptionally superior Epigram on 'The Water turned Wine,' which somehow has been given by a perverse continued blunder to Dryden, Aaron Hill's masterly translation may be read along with those given by us in the place (vol. ii. pp. 96-7):
'When Christ at Cana's feast by pow'r divine
Inspir'd cold water with the warmth of wine;
See! cried they, while in red'ning tide it gush'd,
The bashful stream hath seen its God, and blush'd.'