We have seen that French and German are rich in epigrams, but we incline to think our own literature richer still. From Sir John Harrington downwards the line of epigrammatists was unbroken, until it succumbed to the contempt with which the Lake poets regarded a style so repugnant to their own. It might be not uninteresting to trace the growth of this modest flower in our English soil, but we have already overrun the limit we had set ourselves, and the English epigram must wait another opportunity. But one word more. The initial lines of an epigram, which are addressed to curiosity, whether from ignorance or a mistaken love of conciseness, are often omitted, and a clumsy substitute is provided in the lemma, or explanatory title. Should this happen to be changed or lost, the poem becomes absurd or unintelligible. Take, for instance, this from the German:
Prythee lend, little Lycon, thine eye to Agathē!
Blind, shalt thou then be Cupid, thy sister Venus be!
This would seem sheer nonsense if we did not know that it was written on two children, who, otherwise lovely, had but one eye apiece. The Greek quatrain from which this couplet was extracted is a perfect epigram, and, needing no introduction, contains in itself both the fact and the thought. Even in the case of an epitaph, honestly designed to be graven on a tomb, the best models require no lemma. It is so, for instance, with Ben Jonson’s lines on the Countess of Pembroke:
Underneath this marble hearse
Lies the subject of all verse,
Sidney’s sister, Pembroke’s mother:
Death, ere thou hast slain another
Half so good and fair as she,
Time will fling a dart at thee.
FLEURANGE.
BY MRS. CRAVEN, AUTHOR OF “A SISTER’S STORY.”
TRANSLATED FROM THE FRENCH, WITH PERMISSION.
PART SECOND.
THE TRIAL.
XX.
Notwithstanding the princess’ apparent indifference, she was not so inexperienced as to imagine that Fleurange’s presence in the same house could be wholly exempt from danger to her son at his age and with his temperament. At the same time, anything that would change the actual current of her life would have annoyed her, and what was opposed to her wishes was seldom looked upon as possible. Nevertheless, she carefully watched George for two or three days, and soon felt reassured, and the more so because he was seldom disposed to secrecy with her. Without allowing himself to be directed by his mother, he did not try to conceal his opinions from her, and, even at the risk of sometimes greatly displeasing her, he suffered her to read the depths of his heart without any special effort to baffle her penetration. But this time the result of the princess’ observation was of a nature to reassure her completely.