This poem was begun in the year 1742, but was not finished until
1750, when Gray sent it to Walpole with a letter (dated June 12,
1750) in which he says: "I have been here at Stoke a few days (where
I shall continue good part of the summer), and having put an end to a
thing, whose beginning you have seen long ago, I immediately send it
you. You will, I hope, look upon it in the light of a thing with an
end to it: a merit that most of my writings have wanted, and are like
to want." It was shown in manuscript to some of the author's friends,
and was published in 1751 only because it was about to be printed
surreptitiously.
February 11, 1751, Gray wrote to Walpole that the proprietors of "the
Magazine of Magazines" were about to publish his _Elegy_, and added,
"I have but one bad way left to escape the honour they would inflict
upon me; and therefore am obliged to desire you would make Dodsley
print it immediately (which may be done in less than a week's time)
from your copy, but without my name, in what form is most convenient
for him, but on his best paper and character; he must correct the
press himself,[1] and print it without any interval between the
stanzas, because the sense is in some places continued beyond them;
and the title must be--'Elegy, written in a Country Churchyard.' If
he would add a line or two to say it came into his hands by accident,
I should like it better." Walpole did as requested, and wrote an
advertisement to the effect that accident alone brought the poem
before the public, although an apology was unnecessary to any but the
author. On which Gray wrote, "I thank you for your advertisement,
which saves my honour."
[Footnote 1: Dodsley's proof-reading must have been somewhat
careless, for there are many errors of the press in this _editio
princeps_. Gray writes to Walpole, under date of "Ash-Wednesday,
Cambridge, 1751," as follows: "Nurse Dodsley has given it a pinch or
two in the cradle, that (I doubt) it will bear the marks of as long
as it lives. But no matter: we have ourselves suffered under her
hands before now; and besides, it will only look the more careless
and by _accident_ as it were." Again, March 3, 1751, he writes: "I do
not expect any more editions; as I have appeared in more magazines
than one. The chief errata were _sacred_ for _secret_; _hidden_ for
_kindred_ (in spite of dukes and classics); and '_frowning_ as in
scorn' for _smiling_. I humbly propose, for the benefit of Mr.
Dodsley and his matrons, that take _awake_ [in line 92, which at
first read "awake and faithful to her wonted fires"] for a verb, that
they should read _asleep_, and all will be right." Other errors were,
"Their _harrow_ oft the stubborn glebe," "And read their _destiny_ in
a nation's eyes," "With uncouth rhymes and shapeless _culture_
decked," "Slow through the churchway _pass_," and many of minor
importance.]
A writer in _Notes and Queries_, June 12, 1875, states that the poem
first appeared in the _London Magazine_, March, 1751, p. 134, and
that "the Magazine of Magazines" is "a gentle term of scorn used by
Gray to indicate" that periodical, and not the name of any actual
magazine. But in the next number of _Notes and Queries_ (June 19,
1875) Mr. F. Locker informs us that he has in his possession a
title-page of the _Grand Magazine of Magazines_, and the page of the
number for April, 1751, which contains the _Elegy_. The magazine is
said to be "collected and digested by Roger Woodville, Esq.," and
"published by Cooper at the Globe, in Pater Noster Row."
Gray says nothing in his letters of the appearance of the _Elegy_ in
the _London Magazine_. The full title of that periodical was "The
London Magazine: or Gentleman's Monthly Intelligencer." The editor's
name was not given; the publisher was "R. Baldwin, jun. at the Rose
in Pater-Noster Row." The volume for 1751 was the 20th, and the
Preface (written at the close of the year) begins thus: "As the two
most formidable Enemies we have ever had, are now extinct, we have
great Reason to conclude, that it is only the Merit, and real
Usefulness of our COLLECTION, that hath supported its Sale and
Reputation for Twenty Years." A foot-note informs us that the
"Enemies" are the "_Magazine of Magazines_ and _Grand Magazine of
Magazines_;" from which it would appear that there were two
periodicals of similar name published in London in 1751.[2]
[Footnote 2: May not the _Elegy_ have been printed in both of these?
We do not know how otherwise to reconcile the conflicting statements
concerning the "Magazine of Magazines," as Gray calls it. In the
first place, Gray appears (from other portions of his letter to
Walpole) to be familiar with this magazine, and would not be likely
to confound it with another of similar name. Then, as we have seen,
he writes _early in March_ to Walpole that the poem has been printed
"in more magazines than one." This cannot refer to the _Grand
Magazine of Magazines_, if, as Mr. Locker states, it was the _April_
number of that periodical in which the poem appeared. Nor can it
refer to the _London Magazine_, as it is clear from internal evidence
that the March number, containing the _Elegy_, was not issued until
early in April. It contains a summary of current news down to Sunday,
March 31, and the price of stocks in the London market for March 30.
The _February_ number, in its "monthly catalogue" of new books,
records the publication of the _Elegy_ by Dodsley thus: "An Elegy
wrote in a Church-yard, pr. 6d. Dodsley."
If, then, the _Elegy_ did not appear in either the _London Magazine_
or the _Grand Magazine of Magazines_ until more than a month (in the
case of the latter, perhaps two months) after Dodsley had issued it,
in what magazine was it that it _did_ appear just before he issued
it? The _N. A. Review_ says that "it was a close race between the
Magazine and Dodsley; but the former, having a little the start, came
out a few days ahead." If so, it must have been the _March_ number;
or the _February_ one, if it was published, like the _London_, at the
end of the month. Gray calls it "the Magazine of Magazines," and we
shall take his word for it until we have reason for doubting it. What
else was included in his "more magazines than one" we cannot even
guess.
We have not been able to find the _Magazine of Magazines_ or the
_Grand Magazine of Magazines_ in the libraries, and know nothing
about either "of our own knowledge." The _London Magazine_ is in the
Harvard College Library, and the statements concerning that we can
personally vouch for.]
The author's name is not given with the _Elegy_ as printed in the
_London Magazine_. The poem is sandwiched between an "Epilogue to
_Alfred, a Masque_" and some coarse rhymes entitled "Strip-Me-Naked,
or Royal Gin for ever." There is not even a printer's "rule" or
"dash" to separate the title of the latter from the last line of the
_Elegy_. The poem is more correctly printed than in Dodsley's
authorized edition; though, queerly enough, it has "winds" in the
second line and the parenthesis "(all he had)" in the Epitaph. Of
Dodsley's misprints noted above it has only "Their _harrow_ oft" and
"shapeless _culture_." These four errors, indeed, are the only ones
worth noting, except "Or _wake_ to extasy the living lyre."
The "Magazine of Magazines" (as the writer in the _North American
Review_ tells us) printed the _Elegy_ with the author's name. The
authorized though anonymous edition was thus briefly noticed by _The
Monthly Review_, the critical Rhadamanthus of the day: "_An Elegy in
a Country Churchyard_. 4to. Dodsley's. Seven pages.--The excellence
of this little piece amply compensates for its want of quantity."
"Soon after its publication," says Mason, "I remember, sitting with
Mr. Gray in his College apartment, he expressed to me his surprise at
the rapidity of its sale. I replied:
'Sunt lacrymae rerum, et mentem mortalia tangunt.'
He paused awhile, and taking his pen, wrote the line on a printed
copy of it lying on his table. 'This,' said he, 'shall be its future
motto.' 'Pity,' cried I, 'that Dr. Young's Night Thoughts have
preoccupied it.' 'So,' replied he, 'indeed it is.'" Gray himself
tells the story of its success on the margin of the manuscript copy
of the _Elegy_ preserved at Cambridge among his papers, and
reproduced in _fac-simile_ in Mathias's elegant edition of the poet.
The following is a careful transcript of the memorandum:
"publish'd in
Feb:^{ry}, 1751.
by Dodsley: &
went thro' four
Editions; in two
months; and af-
terwards a fifth
6^{th} 7^{th} & 8^{th} 9^{th} & 10^{th}
& 11^{th}
printed also in 1753
with M^r Bentley's
Designs, of w^{ch}
there is a 2^d Edition
& again by Dodsley
in his Miscellany,
Vol: 4^{th} & in a
Scotch Collection
call'd _the Union_.
translated into
Latin by Chr: Anstey
Esq, & the Rev^d M^r
Roberts, & publish'd
in 1762; & again
in the same year
by Rob: Lloyd, M: A:"
"One peculiar and remarkable tribute to the merit of the _Elegy_,"
says Professor Henry Reed, "is to be noticed in the great number of
translations which have been made of it into various languages, both
of ancient and modern Europe. It is the same kind of tribute which
has been rendered to _Robinson Crusoe_ and to _The Pilgrim's
Progress_, and is proof of the same universality of interest,
transcending the limits of language and of race. To no poem in the
English language has the same kind of homage been paid so abundantly.
Of what other poem is there a polyglot edition? Italy and England
have competed with their polyglot editions of the _Elegy_: Torri's,
bearing the title, 'Elegia di Tomaso Gray sopra un Cimitero di
Campagna, tradotta dall' Inglese in più lingue: Verona, 1817;
Livorno, 1843;' and Van Voorst's London edition." Professor Reed adds
a list of the translations (which, however, is incomplete), including
one in Hebrew, seven in Greek, twelve in Latin, thirteen in Italian,
fifteen in French, six in German, and one in Portuguese.
"Had Gray written nothing but his _Elegy_," remarks Byron, "high as
he stands, I am not sure that he would not stand higher; it is the
cornerstone of his glory."
The tribute paid the poem by General Wolfe is familiar to all, but we
cannot refrain from quoting Lord Mahon's beautiful account of it in
his _History of England_. On the night of September 13th, 1759, the
night before the battle on the Plains of Abraham, Wolfe was
descending the St. Lawrence with a part of his troops. The historian
says: "Swiftly, but silently, did the boats fall down with the tide,
unobserved by the enemy's sentinels at their posts along the shore.
Of the soldiers on board, how eagerly must every heart have throbbed
at the coming conflict! how intently must every eye have contemplated
the dark outline, as it lay pencilled upon the midnight sky, and as
every moment it grew closer and clearer, of the hostile heights! Not
a word was spoken--not a sound heard beyond the rippling of the
stream. Wolfe alone--thus tradition has told us--repeated in a low
tone to the other officers in his boat those beautiful stanzas with
which a country churchyard inspired the muse of Gray. One noble line,
'The paths of glory lead but to the grave,'
must have seemed at such a moment fraught with mournful meaning. At
the close of the recitation Wolfe added, 'Now, gentlemen, I would
rather be the author of that poem than take Quebec.'"
Hales, in his Introduction to the poem, remarks: "The _Elegy_ is
perhaps the most widely known poem in our language. The reason of
this extensive popularity is perhaps to be sought in the fact that it
expresses in an exquisite manner feelings and thoughts that are
universal. In the current of ideas in the _Elegy_ there is perhaps
nothing that is rare, or exceptional, or out of the common way. The
musings are of the most rational and obvious character possible; it
is difficult to conceive of any one musing under similar
circumstances who should not muse so; but they are not the less deep
and moving on this account. The mystery of life does not become
clearer, or less solemn and awful, for any amount of contemplation.
Such inevitable, such everlasting questions as rise on the mind when
one lingers in the precincts of Death can never lose their freshness,
never cease to fascinate and to move. It is with such questions, that
would have been commonplace long ages since if they could ever be so,
that the _Elegy_ deals. It deals with them in no lofty philosophical
manner, but in a simple, humble, unpretentious way, always with the
truest and the broadest humanity. The poet's thoughts turn to the
poor; he forgets the fine tombs inside the church, and thinks only of
the 'mouldering heaps' in the churchyard. Hence the problem that
especially suggests itself is the potential greatness, when they
lived, of the 'rude forefathers' that now lie at his feet. He does
not, and cannot solve it, though he finds considerations to mitigate
the sadness it must inspire; but he expresses it in all its awfulness
in the most effective language and with the deepest feeling; and his
expression of it has become a living part of our language."
The writer in the _North American Review_ (vol. 96) from whom we have
elsewhere quoted says of the _Elegy_: "It is upon this that Gray's
fame as a poet must chiefly rest. By this he will be known forever
alike to the lettered and the unlettered. Many, in future ages, who
may never have heard of his classic Odes, his various learning, or
his sparkling letters, will revere him only as the author of the
_Elegy_. For this he will be enshrined through all time in the hearts
of the myriads who shall speak our English tongue. For this his name
will be held in glad remembrance in the far-off summer isles of the
Pacific, and amidst the waste of polar snows. If he had written
nothing else, his place as a leading poet in our language would still
be assured. Many have asserted, with Johnson, that he was a mere
mechanical poet--one who brought from without, but never found
within; that the gift of inspiration was not native to him; that his
imagination was borrowed finery, his fancy tinsel, and his invention
the world's well-worn jewels; that whatever in his verse was poetic
was not new, and what was new was not poetic; that he was only an
unworldly dyspeptic, living amid many books, and laboriously delving
for a lifetime between musty covers, picking out now and then
another's gems and bits of ore, and fashioning them into
ill-compacted mosaics, which he wrongly called his own. To all this
the _Elegy_ is a sufficient answer. It is not old--it is not bookish;
it is new and human. Books could not make its maker: he was born of
the divine breath alone. Consider all the commentators, the
scholiasts, the interpreters, the annotators, and other like
book-worms, from Aristarchus down to Döderlein; and may it not be
said that, among them all, 'Nec viget quidquam simile aut secundum?'
"Gray wrote but little, yet he wrote that little well. He might have
done far more for us; the same is true of most men, even of the
greatest. The possibilities of a life are always in advance of its
performance. But we cannot say that his life was a wasted one. Even
this little _Elegy_ alone should go for much. For, suppose that he
had never written this, but instead had done much else in other ways,
according to his powers: that he had written many learned treatises;
that he had, with keen criticism, expounded and reconstructed Greek
classics; that he had, perchance, sat upon the woolsack, and laid
rich offerings at the feet of blind Justice;--taking the years
together, would it have been, on the whole, better for him or for us?
Would he have added so much to the sum of human happiness? He might
thus have made himself a power for a time, to be dethroned by some
new usurper in the realm of knowledge; now he is a power and a joy
forever to countless thousands."
Two manuscripts of the _Elegy_, in Gray's handwriting, still exist.
Both were bequeathed by the poet, together with his library, letters,
and many miscellaneous papers, to his friends the Rev. William Mason
and the Rev. James Browne, as joint literary executors. Mason
bequeathed the entire trust to Mr. Stonhewer. The latter, in making
his will, divided the legacy into two parts. The larger share went to
the Master and Fellows of Pembroke Hall. Among the papers, which are
still in the possession of the College, was found a copy of the
_Elegy_. An excellent fac-simile of this manuscript appears in
Mathias's edition of Gray, published in 1814. In referring to it
hereafter we shall designate it as the "Pembroke" MS.
The remaining portion of Gray's literary bequest, including the other
manuscript of the _Elegy_, was left by Mr. Stonhewer to his friend,
Mr. Bright. In 1845 Mr. Bright's sons sold the collection at auction.
The MS. of the _Elegy_ was bought by Mr. Granville John Penn, of
Stoke Park, for _one hundred pounds_--the highest sum that had ever
been known to be paid for a single sheet of paper. In 1854 this
manuscript came again into the market, and was knocked down to Mr.
Robert Charles Wrightson, of Birmingham, for 131 pounds. On the 29th
of May, 1875, it was once more offered for sale in London, and was
purchased by Sir William Fraser for 230 pounds, or about $1150. A
photographic reproduction of it was published in London in 1862. For
convenience we shall refer to it as the "Wrightson" MS.
There can be little doubt that the Wrightson MS. is the original one,
and that the Pembroke MS. is a fair copy made from it by the poet.
The former contains a greater number of alterations, and varies more
from the printed text. It bears internal evidence of being the rough
draft, while the other represents a later stage of the poem. We will
give the variations of both from the present version.[3]
[Footnote 3: For the readings of the Wrightson MS. we have had to
depend on Mason, Mitford, and other editors of the poem, and on the
article in the _North American Review_, already referred to. The
readings of the Pembroke MS. are taken from the engraved fac-simile
in Mathias's edition.
The two stanzas of which a fac-simile is given on page 73 are from
the Pembroke MS., but the wood-cut hardly does justice to the
feminine delicacy of the poet's handwriting.]
The Wrightson MS. has in the first stanza, "The lowing herd _wind_
slowly," etc. See our note on this line, below.
In the 2d stanza, it reads, "And _now_ the air," etc.
The 5th stanza is as follows:
"For ever sleep: the breezy call of morn,
Or swallow twitt'ring from the straw-built shed,
Or Chanticleer so shrill, or echoing horn,
No more shall rouse them from their lowly bed."
In 8th stanza, "Their _rustic_ joys," etc.
In 10th stanza, the first two lines read,
"Forgive, ye proud, th' involuntary fault,
If memory to these no trophies raise."
In 12th stanza, "Hands that the _reins_ of empire," etc.
In 13th stanza, "Chill Penury _depress'd_," etc.
The 15th stanza reads thus:
"Some village Cato, who, with dauntless breast,
The little tyrant of his fields withstood;
Some mute inglorious Tully here may rest,
Some Cæsar guiltless of his country's blood."[4]
[Footnote 4: The _Saturday Review_ for June 19, 1875, has a long
article on the change made by Gray in this stanza, entitled, "A
Lesson from Gray's Elegy," from which we cull the following
paragraphs:
"Gray, having first of all put down the names of three Romans as
illustrations of his meaning, afterwards deliberately struck them out
and put the names of three Englishmen instead. This is a sign of a
change in the taste of the age, a change with which Gray himself had
a good deal to do. The deliberate wiping out of the names of Cato,
Tully, and Cæsar, to put in the names of Hampden, Milton, and
Cromwell, seems to us so obviously a change for the better that there
seems to be no room for any doubt about it. It is by no means certain
that Gray's own contemporaries would have thought the matter equally
clear. We suspect that to many people in his day it must have seemed
a daring novelty to draw illustrations from English history,
especially from parts of English history which, it must be
remembered, were then a great deal more recent than they are now. To
be sure, in choosing English illustrations, a poet of Gray's time was
in rather a hard strait. If he chose illustrations from the century
or two before his own time, he could only choose names which had
hardly got free from the strife of recent politics. If, in a poem of
the nature of the Elegy, he had drawn illustrations from earlier
times of English history, he would have found but few people in his
day likely to understand him....
"The change which Gray made in this well-known stanza is not only an
improvement in a particular poem, it is a sign of a general
improvement in taste. He wrote first according to the vicious taste
of an earlier time, and he then changed it according to his own
better taste. And of that better taste he was undoubtedly a prophet
to others. Gray's poetry must have done a great deal to open men's
eyes to the fact that they were Englishmen, and that on them, as
Englishmen, English things had a higher claim than Roman, and that to
them English examples ought to be more speaking than Roman ones. But
there is another side of the case not to be forgotten. Those who
would have regretted the change from Cato, Tully, and Cæsar to
Hampden, Milton, and Cromwell, those who perhaps really did think
that the bringing in of Hampden, Milton, and Cromwell was a
degradation of what they would have called the Muse, were certainly
not those who had the truest knowledge of Cato, Tully, and Cæsar. The
'classic' taste from which Gray helped to deliver us was a taste
which hardly deserves to be called a taste. Pardonable perhaps in the
first heat of the Renaissance, when 'classic' studies and objects had
the charm of novelty, it had become by his day a mere silly
fashion."]
In 18th stanza, "Or _crown_ the shrine," etc.
After this stanza, the MS. has the following four stanzas, now
omitted:
"The thoughtless world to Majesty may bow,
Exalt the brave, and idolize success;
But more to innocence their safety owe
Than Pow'r, or Genius, e'er conspir'd to bless.
"And thou who, mindful of the unhonour'd Dead,
Dost in these notes their artless tale relate,
By night and lonely contemplation led
To wander in the gloomy walks of fate:
"Hark! how the sacred Calm, that breathes around,
Bids every fierce tumultuous passion cease;
In still small accents whisp'ring from the ground
A grateful earnest of eternal peace.
"No more, with reason and thyself at strife,
Give anxious cares and endless wishes room;
But through the cool sequester'd vale of life
Pursue the silent tenor of thy doom."[5]
[Footnote 5: We follow Mason (ed. 1778) in the text of these stanzas.
The _North American Review_ has "Power _and_ Genius" in the first,
and "_linger_ in the _lonely_ walks" in the second.]
The second of these stanzas has been remodelled and used as the 24th
of the present version. Mason thought that there was a pathetic
melancholy in all four which claimed preservation. The third he
considered equal to any in the whole _Elegy_. The poem was originally
intended to end here, the introduction of "the hoary-headed swain"
being a happy after-thought.