"
Ah, what an echo, Antony, every word of this beautiful passage finds in
my own heart, only saddened with the poignant regret that the
necessary business and occupation of the passing years have dulled for
me such unpolished facility, as I may once have possessed, for
perusing my Homer and my Horace!
It is, indeed, rare in these days to find gentlemen as familiar as were
their forebears with Latin and Greek. You, Antony, will probably find
yourself as you grow up in like case with myself, but there will remain
for your unending instruction and delight all the glories of English
literature, to give you a taste for which these few letters of mine are
written, plucking only a single flower here and there from the most
wonderful garden in the world.
Your loving old
G.P.
25
MY DEAR ANTONY,
Cardinal Newman, of whom I shall write to-day, was the first of the
great writers born in the nineteenth century, and he lived from 1801 to
1890. Besides being a master of English prose he was no mean poet;
but above all else he was a man of immense personal power, which was
strangely associated with a manifest saintliness which compelled
diffidence from those admitted to his intimacy.
I have described him as I knew him in my _Memories_;[1] and now will
quote to you his utterance on music and its effect upon the heart of
man, which has always seemed to me too precious to leave buried in a
sermon:--
"Let us take an instance, of an outward and earthly form, or
economy, under which great wonders unknown seem to be typified; I
mean musical sounds as they are exhibited most perfectly in
instrumental harmony.
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