Memoir of Francis Hodgson
James Montgomery to Francis Hodgson, 16 April 1822
Sheffield: April 16, 1822.
Rev. and dear Sir,—I did not acknowledge the kindness
of your former letter, enclosing the spirited ode to ‘the glorious
Greeks,’ because I would not unnecessarily trouble you, and I hoped that
some opportunity might fall in my way of personally ![]()
| LETTER FROM MONTGOMERY. | 93 |
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expressing my sense of the obligation. At the
concert—where I had the pleasure to meet you—this was upon my mind;
and if my face could speak, I am sure your eye would have heard it say
‘thank you,’ though in the hurry of that strange evening, when,
under considerable bodily indisposition, both intellect and senses were
bewildered with the enchantment of Catalani’s song, the words which I meant to utter before
we parted never reached my tongue, and you were vanished before I discovered,
as usual, that with the best intentions in the world I do everything either in
the worst manner or not at all. Your second letter, accompanying another
patriotic ode—for patriotic it is from a scholar, the country of whose
heart is Greece; Greece in her glory, and Greece fallen, and above all Greece
about to rise again with the spirit that animated her of old—your second
letter, I say, accompanying that ode, and manifesting equal friendliness
towards one whom you only know in his most advantageous disguise, that of an
author, requires an explicit expression of gratitude, and this should have been
offered by the return of your messenger, had I been at home when your favour
arrived. I take, therefore, the earliest opportunity after my return from
Liverpool, where I was last ![]()
| 94 | MEMOIR OF REV. F. HODGSON. | |
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week, to say that I am deeply
your debtor for the spontaneous and unmerited cordiality of your invitation to
better acquaintance. Should any occasion lead me into your neighbourhood, I
shall be happy to call and acknowledge personally the feelings which such
kindness could not fail to awaken in one who is tremblingly sensitive to
‘every touch of joy or woe,’ but who is
exceedingly—nervously—miserably, I may say—shy and fearful to
meet countenances which he does not see every day—even those of old
friends and near relatives. But I must not tell you all my folly and weakness
at once; you will soon see me through and through, for I am as transparent and
as frail too as a bubble, and if I am but touched unexpectedly I break. I know
you will forgive me if I say, in the ode which I have sent, that I shrink from
the sentiment so boldly and poetically expressed in the third stanza. The lines
perhaps are the best in the whole piece, but yet I wish you to alter them for
reasons which I need not explain—indeed which I cannot explain, except by
saying that the unqualified presumption that all who die in a good and glorious
cause are raised to ‘eternal heaven’ may be very much
misunderstood. The doctrine would be literally orthodox on the side of ![]()
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the Turks; but I fear that it might
be dangerous to affirm (though only under poetical license) the same on the
part of Christians, who may certainly be heroes and martyrs in the cause of
their country, but who are not therefore, without some
higher preparation of heart, made heirs of God and joint-heirs with Christ. The
frankness with which I mention this will prove that if you honour me with your
friendship and confidence, I shall not abuse it by meanness or insincerity.
Will you then have the goodness to reconsider this stanza; and if you adopt
fame or glory, etc. for heaven, I doubt not you may support the verse with
equal dignity, and give no offence to timid consciences like mine; and I am
neither afraid nor ashamed to confess that in things relating to eternity and
the issues of human life in reference to an immortal state hereafter, my
conscience is timid. Should you adopt this
recommendation, I shall with pleasure adorn a column of the ‘Iris’
with your splendid lines. Meanwhile I am, with great respect and esteem,
Your obliged friend and servant,
Angelica Catalani (1780-1849)
Italian soprano who in 1806 made her London debut at the King’s Theatre.
James Montgomery (1771-1854)
English poet and editor of the
Sheffield Iris (1795-1825); author
of
The Wanderer of Switzerland (1806) and
The
World before the Flood (1813).
