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_.' Dryden's 'The conscious water saw its God, and blush'd,' is a mere remembrance of Crashaw.[35]